


Coming of Age

by imagine0314, NorthernGhost



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Family Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29112765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagine0314/pseuds/imagine0314, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthernGhost/pseuds/NorthernGhost
Summary: Being the first generation of Sobecks in 1,000 years that aren't clones is a heavy prospect to come to terms with--for some more than others.
Relationships: Aloy/Talanah Khane Padish, Ikrie/Anukai (OC)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 5





	1. The Boy from Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all!
> 
> So, this isn't what we actually planned to come this week, but... accidents happen, and we liked this too much to not do anything with it.
> 
> If it hasn't been clear so far, Imagine and I barely plan ahead, but, when these accidents happen, everyone gets more fic!
> 
> So, enjoy some more time with some of our favorite characters, including the young Lana and Kal as they try to come to terms with their place in the world--as the children of some rather outstanding circumstances.
> 
> Typical teenager stuff.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> First chapter by Imagine0314

“Kal? Are you okay?”

“Kallik, say something.”  
  
The boy felt his head swimming, a thousand thoughts coming all at once. It was clear this talk had been a long time coming, and while he might have gleaned the general idea over the years, hearing it spoken in detail now left him feeling empty. 

Why? Why did he always have to be the one on the outside looking in? 

The one who didn’t match the fiery coloring of his family, the one with a _borrowed_ house name. And now he was the one _manufactured,_ unable to even lay as much claim to his existence as his own sister. He stewed in silence, watching as Bekan shuffled politely out the door, the Oseram shades of red that Kal hadn’t even known were possible. Somewhere in the distance he could hear Lana preparing a bag to go see their grandmother.

 _Her_ grandmother, Kal reminded himself. Even if the circumstances were strange, they were at least related. He couldn’t say the same. Everything about him was a patchwork of pieces: begged for and stolen and rearranged.  
  
It made him so, so _angry_.

“Kal?” Anukai asked again, kneeling at his side, the worry creased into her face. “This doesn’t change anything, you know that right?” Her fingers dug into the hem of her off-white shirt, nervously fiddling with the fabric.

The boy balled his hands into fists, his jaw clenching before he exploded. Bekan was his...was his…

He was nothing. Just like he wanted to be. 

And maybe Lana had been okay with that--but she had woman after woman she looked like, whose blood she clearly carried. She had the _certainty_ that she had been brought into being like everyone else, but Kal found himself bristling at the notion that not only had he been some pity favor for his mothers, but they’d had him _made._

Maybe everything the kids at school had said over the years was true.  
  
“This changes _everything!_ ” he finally shouted. “Nothing about me is even real!”

“That’s not true, Kal,” Anukai soothed. She attempted to place a hand on her son’s back, only for him to jerk away.

“It _is_ true,” the dark-haired boy seethed.  
  
“Kallik, that’s not...you _are_ real. Very, very, real,” Ikrie insisted, sitting across from Kal’s position on the couch.  
  
“Trust me, kiddo, I was there to watch you enter the world,” the redhead said with a chuckle, aiming to lighten the mood. “You were loud enough that there was no missing it.”

The boy’s fury was building. How could she _laugh_ at this? Like...like it was _nothing?_ It was _their fault_ he wasn’t like everyone else.  
  
“Everything about me is a _lie,_ ” Kal insisted. “I’m _not_ a Khane Padish, and I’m _not_ a...a person. I-I’m just... _wrong_ .”  
  
“Kallik,” Ikrie said sincerely, her brows knitting together. “There is _nothing_ wrong about you. There’s no difference in the end between how you and Lana got here.”

The boy slammed his fist into a nearby pillow. “Don’t _lie_ to me!”  
  
“Kal, we aren’t lying--” Anukai began.  
  
“Yeah? Well if it’s all the _same_ then why wasn’t Lana made that way, huh? Something was _different_ and whatever it was, _you_ didn’t want it.”

Anukai’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Instead she looked down at the floor, blinking back the fast-building wetness in her eyes.

“We each...had our reasons for doing things the way we did,” Ikrie said softly. She reached for his hand but thought better of it as the boy intentionally shifted away, crossing his arms over his blue tunic. “That...those reasons didn’t have anything to do with you or Lana or how much we love you or wanted you. It had to do with us and our histories.”

“So you made me a freak just so you could feel better, _great._ ”

Ikrie frowned, looking like she’d been struck. “We...we didn’t…”  
  
“You did,” Kal retorted. “Or Gramma GAIA did. She’s...she’s not even my grandma. None of them are. She...she _made_ me. Sun and Shadow, this is so fucked up.” 

“Watch your language--” Ikrie cut in.  
  
“Or _what_ , Mom? If that title’s even right--”  
  
“Kallik!” Anukai admonished. Her desire to defend her wife was warring with her need to calm her son.  
  
Kal stood abruptly, causing his mothers to flinch in surprise. “Leave me alone!” he screamed, marching down the hallway to his room and slamming the door, twisting the lock in place.  
  
“Kal, I…” a voice drifted through the door, and he could hear his redheaded mother’s voice hitch. “She loves you more than you can know. We both do.” She seemed to hesitate, the shadow at the bottom of his door indicating her lingering presence. After several moments of silence, however, she quietly padded away.  
  
The boy flopped unceremoniously onto his bed, burying his face in his blanket and trying to ignore the soft sounds of his mothers’ tears. In a single afternoon, his world had changed, the geography unknown.  
  
As his eyes closed and the rage bled out of his body, Kal found himself wondering if he even belonged in it.  
  
\-------

Kal woke late, realizing the window in his room now let in only moonlight. He groaned softly, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes, puffy and sore, finding his Focus nearby on his desk. He quickly snapped it to his temple and checked the time, sighing as he realized he’d been asleep for nearly three hours. 

His Focus popped up several notifications--messages from nearly every family member. He skimmed over the contact names: _Grandma. Nana. Aunt Ara. Lana._ Kal frowned, silently wishing he could be anywhere but Meridian, anywhere he wouldn’t be known as, well, whatever he was. 

The dark-haired boy swiped at the messages, ignoring them for now. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since that morning. He debated quietly, wondering if he could manage to sneak to the kitchen and back undetected. The _last_ thing he wanted was to confront his mothers.  
  
“Shit,” he breathed quietly to himself, finally standing up from his bed.

He pressed one ear against the wooden door, listening for any sign that the two older women were about, before he slowly released the lock and pushed it open, careful to avoid any creaking. Kal tip-toed through the hallway, leaning his head in the direction of his mothers’ room, and noting the dim light from under the door. Were they still awake?

The boy shook his head, ignoring the temptation to investigate and instead snuck to Lana’s room, finding it empty.  
  
“Figures,” he sighed. 

She was still gone, and likely would be for a day or two. She’d always taken off to their-- _her--_ grandmother or aunt’s place when she got overwhelmed, claiming it was easier to be around a different mind inside her own, whatever _that_ was like.

He continued on, finally reaching the kitchen where he quickly grabbed a plate and loaded it with items from the pantry and chillbox, munching on pieces of cheese and bread and chasing it with some water as he did so. When his foraging was complete, Kal began the process of retracing his steps, carefully carrying his items so as not to spill them.  
  
The boy again crossed the section of hallway just outside his mothers’ room, though this time he was surprised to hear muffled words that froze him in place.  
  
“I’m just...I’ll never forgive myself if he--” Ikrie lamented, her voice thick with sobs. “He _hates_ me.”

He paused and for a moment, a pang of guilt permeated his chest. Had he gone too far?

“He doesn’t hate you, Ikrie. He’s...confused. It was a lot to throw at him,” Anukai said, her voice cracking.

“I just...what he said...he’s right,” Ikrie said, her voice low. “We did things differently between us and there were reasons...but now I wonder if I was too selfish. I-I wanted _you_ and I didn’t want to _be_ with…”  
  
Kal’s jaw clenched, freshly angered. His mother had acknowledged it, she _knew_ he was _right_ \--he was _different_ and it was _her_ fault. He could feel the fire rising in his chest once more, burning just behind his ribs.  
  
“You’re _not_ selfish, Ikrie. You did what you did...for _me._ For _us._ Doesn’t matter how it happened…”  
  
The boy gritted his teeth, storming off back to the shelter of his room, refusing to listen further. It _did_ matter and the fact that they couldn’t see it only made him more resentful. He stomped back to his door, slamming it as it closed, and placed his plate on the desk, picking at the items petulantly.  
  
A moment passed and heavier footsteps approached, just outside his door.  
  
“Kal?”  
  
The image of his dark-haired mother on the other side instantly filled his mind, and he tried to ignore how he pictured her eyes: with so much red rimming them to contrast the blue. He could hear it in her voice that she’d been crying, her tone shaky and unsure.

“Kallik...please. Talk to me.”  
  
The boy said nothing, holding still until he heard the woman sigh dejectedly and slowly walk away when it became obvious he wouldn’t open the door.

Kal brushed a hand through his hair before rubbing at his eyes and returning to his food, anger and guilt gnawing at him in perfect harmony. After some time, he opened his Focus interface once again, playing a moving picture that had become his favorite, though his attention was elsewhere, distracted, churning over and over the hard truths the day had brought.  
  
He couldn’t be sure when sleep took him, but Kal was grateful for the chance to stop thinking, slipping deep into the dark.

\------

Three days had passed much the same, Kal reading or watching moving pictures to pass the time, only leaving his room for essentials when he was sure his mothers wouldn’t be present. Their pleas had become more desperate but less frequent, attempting to give him space. 

But what was space, really? He found he could not escape himself, much less the self-loathing he now felt. He was an aberration, without a legitimate claim to his family, his name, his _life_ .  
  
A soft knock sounded at his door, startling him out of his poisonous thoughts.  
  
“Kal,” Ikrie began gently.  
  
“Go. Away.”  
  
“Kal, let me in, please,” she pleaded, her tone raw.  
  
“You’re _not_ my mom, so just stop!” he shouted.  
  
The boy could practically hear his mother wince beyond the wood of his door and he waited a moment, letting the venom of his words sink in.  
  
“You know that’s not true,” the older woman said finally, her tone sad but firm. She took a deep breath before continuing. “I...we talked to Aunt Ash and she’s got a proposal for you. Will you open up so we can talk?”

Kal’s brows furrowed. Had they told Aunt Ash everything? For a moment his mind was filled with fleeting thoughts. What would she think? Was she _even_ his aunt, really? But she’d always been so good to him, his favorite relative, if he was being honest. He silently cursed himself for thinking it in the first place. No, this....this was Ash. Maybe she’d understand. _Maybe_.

Then again, she had a _real_ son who had a _real_ father. Maybe she wouldn’t understand at all.  
  
Before he could decide whether to refuse, Kal found himself on his feet, quickly flipping the lock and retreating to his bed, knees tucked to his chest.  
  
The door opened softly, and Ikrie entered looking tired, her usual bright eyes dark with deep shadows beneath. She kept her distance, as if approaching a wounded animal, watching as Kal attempted to sink further and further into the corner of his room.  
  
“What do you want?” he finally asked, his tone sharp.  
  
“I…I know this has been a lot for you,” the dark-haired woman breathed.  
  
“Don’t act like you understand what I’m feeling right now,” Kal spat. “Last I remember, you came from an _actual_ family.”  
  
Ikrie’s face dropped, visibly deflating though it was clear she was trying hard not to let his words hit too deeply. “We thought...maybe you might want to have some time to yourself,” she said, “Just...to think or have fun, even. We got in touch with Aunt Ash and...with school out for the year, she’s offering for you to spend the summer with her and Sorin and Elias in Tehawus--if you’re interested, that is.”  
  
Kal eyed her suspiciously. Aunt Ash had been the only person not to message him immediately after everything had gone south, though he knew she was a woman of fewer words than her sisters. He’d always liked that about her--she never said anything unless she knew it was _exactly_ what she wanted to say.  
  
“Why would she invite me to Tehawus?” he asked hesitantly.  
  
“Why wouldn’t she? Ash and Sorin love you and we both know you and Elias have a great time together,” Ikrie offered. She tried to lean toward her son only to find he instantly recoiled, causing her to relent.

“I-I’m...not even related to them. She’s not even my aunt,” Kal said, his voice small. He wanted more than anything to leave Meridian for a while, but he had said what he’d said, and despite part of him wanting desperately to give in, he held firm. They were _not_ his family. How could they be when he was what he was?  
  
“You don’t mean that,” his mother said softly, voice cracking at the end.  
  
Kal sat silently, unwilling to meet her eyes.

“Well, it’s up to you. You can message her back and accept or you can tell her she’s not your aunt and see how she handles it,” Ikrie said, slowly moving toward the door, where she paused and turned to face him.  
  
Kal continued to avert his gaze, wondering if he could will her out of the room entirely.  
  
“It hurts me so much to see you so lost, Kallik,” she said, her voice low. “And I’m sorry if I’ve made you doubt yourself...but I am _not_ sorry that I brought you into this world or what it took to do so. I love you--try to remember that.”

The boy watched as his mother walked out the door, closing it behind her. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, trying his best to ignore the guilt he felt and instead focus on what to do next. 

The following hour saw his message deleted and re-written several times, fine tuning its tone until it was firm but emotionless. As much as he wanted to go, he couldn’t. Acknowledging her would mean acknowledging _them_ , and he wasn’t quite ready to acquiesce. It would hurt her, he knew, but she had her own family to worry about. 

She wasn’t his aunt, not anymore. 

Before he could reconsider, he hit send, resigning himself to another night of boredom and stewing alone. He put another moving picture on his Focus, aimlessly watching half of it before the interface chimed with an incoming call.  
  
 _Aunt Ash_ flashed in front of his eyes, causing him to groan and tense. She wouldn’t be happy, but he knew it was best to face this head-on. He reluctantly swiped, knowing she wasn’t a fan of long calls. Perhaps he could end this soon and he could put it behind him.  
  
“Kallik,” she said brusquely. _“Explain.”_  
  
“Uh, hi.”  
  
 _“Hi? That is what you say to me after deciding not to accept my offer and disowning me in the very same message?”_ Her words came fast in Tehawan, and Kal quickly felt himself struggling to keep up. She _never_ spoke this quickly, but it was clear she was agitated.  
  
“I can’t...slow down...what?”  
  
Ashana sighed on the other end of the call. “I will speak in your tongue so you may understand me. I want no confusion here,” she said, her accent thick in the way it was when she was upset. “Kallik, I reject it.”  
  
“You...what?” he asked.  
  
“I reject it. You are not in your right mind and I will not let you push me away because you are adrift. I have spoken with your mothers and I know what you have learned is hard. I...know what it is to find out your origins are not what you imagined. But even if we were not family--which we are--I _choose_ to love you and you could not change that, even if you tried.”

“But...but you’re not…” Kal refuted weakly.  
  
“Kallik, my little Stormbird, you fell asleep to Tehawan stories in my arms before my own son! How could you even begin to think such a thing?”

“I--”  
  
“I will make the trip to Meridian to collect you myself--to show you I mean it--if I have to. Pack your things. I will arrive tomorrow evening with a VTOL. I am not taking no for an answer.”

With that, the call ended, leaving Kal alone with his thoughts. The boy was unsure whether to be angry or relieved at the turn of events.

Either way, it seemed he was destined for a summer in Tehawus.  
  
\------

The dark-haired boy stood with a bag over each shoulder, carrying enough clothing and personal effects to last several weeks. He’d found that after he started packing, his mood had lifted somewhat, but he wouldn’t give his mothers the satisfaction of knowing he looked forward to anything. 

Just outside the outskirts of the city, Ashana’s VTOL sat, powered down for the moment. She had arrived just as she said she would, and after an hour of catching up with her sister and Ikrie, she had urged their departure, eager to get her nephew out of Meridian for his own good.  
  
“Be safe,” Anukai said, wrapping her arms around the boy to hug him, though he did not return the gesture. “Have fun with Elias, okay?”  
  
Kal nodded without enthusiasm but otherwise stayed silent, waiting until his dark-haired mother approached. He looked up at her, still an inch or two shorter than her, though he found he still could not completely meet her gaze, knowing tears had trailed down her cheeks. She leaned in, hugging him as well, and once again his arms stayed pinned to his bags, unwilling to move to embrace her.  
  
“Just um...check in sometimes, okay? It’s alright if you need time,” Ikrie said softly, though any other words she might have had for him died in her throat, replaced instead with quiet sobs.  
  
“He is in good hands with us,” Ashana promised, reaching forward to embrace first her sister and then Ikrie. 

His aunt motioned him forward and pressed a panel on the side of the VTOL, opening a sliding door in the otherwise solid metal body of the machine. He placed his bags in cargo nets while she entered behind him, letting the door slide shut. 

The redhead climbed into the pilot’s seat, gesturing for him to join her in the co-pilot’s chair.  
  
“You can fly this thing?” he asked, curiously.  
  
“They mostly fly themselves,” she smirked. “We are fortunate I was able to obtain one so quickly. VTOLs are not so common in Tehawus yet.”

The redhead waved out of the glass pane at the boy’s mothers, though Kal remained eerily still, instead preferring to focus his eyes on the horizon as the machine lifted vertically into the air. 

“We will arrive in five hours,” Ashana informed him. “Elias is excited to see you.”  
  
“Okay,” Kal said flatly, staring out of the window, his chin propped in his hand.  
  
Ashana frowned. “We do not have to speak about recent events if you do not wish,” she added gently. 

The boy nodded, distracting himself with his Focus and counting the minutes as they passed. He watched as the scenery below began to change from the red, sandy desert of his home to more forested areas, green soon becoming the dominant color of the landscape.  
  
After an hour or two, his Focus chimed with a new notification from his mother. Kal opened it, finding a short message and image attached. It read simply:  
  
 _“We’ve loved you from day one and nothing about how you came to be makes you less worthy of that.”_  
  
He raised an eyebrow, opening the image that accompanied it.

“What is it?” Ashana finally asked, watching as his eyes darted across something she couldn’t see.

He silently forwarded the message to her Focus, allowing her to view its contents for herself.  
  
“Ah, I remember this day fondly,” the redhead smiled.  
  
“What’s special about it?” From the glance he’d given the image, he couldn’t be sure of its significance, though it featured his mothers, aunts, and grandmothers gathered together, looking notably younger.  
  
“This is the day your mothers learned they were expecting you, Kallik.”

The boy did a double-take, looking back at the image and scrutinizing it further, noting his redheaded mother’s hand placed gently over her wife’s middle while his grandmothers looked on at them adoringly and his aunts each sported their own matching grins.  
  
“She doesn’t look--”  
  
“It was early, earlier than most would tell, and if they were Tehawan, they would not have told at all,” Ashana said, laughing to herself softly over the old superstition. “But you know it is hard to keep secrets in this family and...Ara and I could not help but feel our sister’s joy. I was fortunate to be in the city for my annual trip when your mothers discovered this and so we captured the moment.”  
  
“She seems...happy,” Kal admitted. “But I’m...nothing there. Why would she make such a big deal over it?”  
  
“You were _not_ nothing even if there is not much to see,” the redhead said. “My sister struggled for nearly a year in her endeavor without success. This hurt her badly, more so than you can imagine. I cannot tell you how selfless it was when your mother volunteered to _arrange_ things with Bekan and GAIA. Anukai was overcome when Ikrie found you had taken.”  
  
Kal’s face screwed up in thought, frowning as he did so. “What she _arranged_ was having a machine make me a freak without a father.”  
  
Ashana turned to face her nephew, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You have one by blood, and you did not _need_ one by custom, but if you _want_ one...you will have this summer to figure out exactly what that means to you.”

Her green-gold eyes and face that looked exactly like his redheaded mother stared back at him, care and concern lacing her features. He knew she meant every word, and yet accepting affection from so familiar a face made him bristle all the same.  
  
 _“I love you, my Stormbird, even if you cannot yet say it back,”_ she said, sliding back into her well-worn Tehawan. She said it slowly and deliberately, matching his gaze until she was sure he could understand.  
  
His eyes quietly drifted away from hers until he had turned in his seat fully, staring out at the landscape, once again. 

After several excruciating minutes of total silence between them, Ashana began to hum an old tune Kal couldn’t place, her voice lower and bit more raspy than her sister’s. Eventually quiet words joined, half-sung and half-recited, and though he could catch a lyric or two, he was unable to parse the rest, instead letting the flow put him at ease, his shoulders finally relaxing and eyes beginning to blink heavily.  
  
When she was finished, Ashana turned to find the boy asleep in his chair, looking younger now that so much anger no longer crossed his face. She grinned to herself--he had always been unable to resist the pull of her language, and it seemed that despite his protests that he was _different_ , he was still very much the boy she had always known.  
  
 _“You will always be my Stormbird, Kallik,”_ she said softly. _“But I must remind you how to fly.”_


	2. Relearning to Fly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by Imagine0314

_“I worry about him,”_ Ashana said, her voice low so as not to carry down the hall. 

The redhead swirled her drink in her hand, staring at it as if it would provide guidance. Her nephew had been in Tehawus for two weeks, and had mostly kept to himself, refusing to speak at length with anyone, her son included.  
  
Sorin nodded, pausing his work in the kitchen as he did so, knife in hand. 

_“He has much to consider, from what you have told me. I am not surprised he needs time.”_

The tall blond guided his blade through the length of meat, expertly fileting the cut into thin strips. He listened quietly while he worked, lingering on his mate’s every word.

 _“Do you think you might...talk to him, Sorin? He seems so unmoored and I believe could use a presence like yours,”_ she asked, silken Tehawan spoken between them.  
  
Sorin cleaned his knife in the sink, grabbing for summer squash in a nearby bowl before he continued.  
  
 _“He is questioning much right now,”_ he said thoughtfully, _“but I will not press. I will make myself available but he will come to me when the time is right.”_ _  
__  
_Ashana’s lips pressed thin; she knew her mate was right, but the longer the boy’s isolation lasted, the deeper the pit in her stomach had become. _“I just...I need to help guide Kallik back to himself, my love. I promised my sister we would try, and he seems so lost. I have never seen this from him before.”_

Sorin made a low sound of acknowledgement, dicing the vegetable on the countertop. _“He has good reason to feel lost, Ashana,_ ” he said softly. _“He questions what it means to be family and to have a father. He questions what it means to be the man he is becoming. All we can do is provide a good example for him and Elias both. Do not worry, he and I will find our time this summer.”_

The redhead grinned up at him. _“You seem pleased to fill the role.”_ _  
__  
_Sorin finished his work, taking the ingredients before him and arranging them on a metal pan with some oil and herbs. _“I care very much for him and it pains me to see the boy struggle so,”_ he said, before wiping his hands on a towel and turning to face his mate, meeting her gaze with warmth. _“It brings me great satisfaction to show our son what it means to be a man of worth. I would be pleased to extend the same to Kallik should he want it.”_

 _“I suspect he does,”_ Ashana nodded, lifting her glass to her lips, _“even if he does not know it. Bekan is merely blood, but he is no father by design. And while my sister and her mate are wonderful mothers, there is...something you can offer Kallik that they cannot. He looks up to you, the same way Elias does.”_

Sorin nodded solemnly in understanding, leaning in to kiss her and tasting the sweet burn of alcohol on her lips. He pulled away after a moment, noticing a blush spreading down the top of her chest, just below her collarbone.  
  
 _“You are a good man, my love,”_ she said with a grin. She raised her free hand to cup his jaw, fingertips scratching gently through his short beard which was now beginning to show some silver.

He looked at her with a gaze that made her chest ache, his blue eyes bright and sincere.  
  
 _“You made me better when you gave me a son,”_ he said reverently. _“I will never stop thanking you for it.”_

\------

Summer in Tehawus came with late, lingering sunsets and just enough humidity in the air to dampen Kal’s shirt, though he found he didn’t mind it as much as the thick atmosphere of the Jewel. The past two weeks had moved slowly, and the boy spent most of his time keeping to himself, occasionally giving in when his younger cousin pestered him enough.  
  
A knock came at the doorframe of the room the two boys were sharing, the pair of them sprawled along the floor. Kal looked up from the book in his hands, Elias doing much the same.

 _“May I come in?”_ Sorin asked slowly, making every effort to pronounce his words clearly for Kal’s sake.  
  
Elias smiled and nodded, urging his father in the open doorway.  
  
 _“Having fun?”_ the tall blond asked.

Kal shrugged while Elias remained silent, casting a glance at his cousin.

 _“What would you two say to getting out tomorrow? Camping--just the three of us.”_ _  
__  
_The dark-haired boy looked up at him quizzically.  
  
“Camping,” Sorin clarified in English, clearing his throat. “For a few days. Just the three of us.”  
  
 _“Will you take us on a hunt?”_ Elias asked excitedly.  
  
Sorin nodded. _“Of course. I know a spot with excellent game and a good river for swimming.”  
_ _  
_Kal looked up, his voice quiet. “I’ve...never been swimming in a river before....not many rivers in the desert.”  
  
“You think you will like it, Kallik,” Sorin grinned, “and it will do you good to get out of your head and into your body.”  
  
The boy frowned. What did Sorin know about his head, anyway?

“It is not a judgment,” his uncle said softly. “You know I am more a man of action than words, and you have not been inclined to conversation lately, have you?”  
  
Kal looked away, shrugging once again. 

" _Please, Kal,”_ Elias begged. _“I want to have fun with you, like old times.”_

The dark-haired boy hesitated, chewing on his lip. What was the point of all this? He detested the idea of being some charity case taken on by his uncle, though he did feel guilty about coming all this way only to continue his sulking.  
  
 _“Please,”_ Elias repeated. _“My father takes me on the best adventures. I want you to have one, too.”_ _  
__  
_Kal rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his voice. _“You want me to have an adventure or a father? Because I don’t have--”_ _  
__  
__“Why not both?”_ Sorin said, chuckling as he leaned into the doorframe. _“I am certain Elias does not mind sharing_ . _”_ _  
__  
_The dark-haired boy paused, his mouth agape at having his bitter argument so easily derailed.  
  
“I--”

 _“I do not mind, Kal,”_ Elias said genuinely. _“And besides, I bet I can take down a bigger deer than you.”_ _  
__  
_Kal grinned, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. And besides, he couldn’t let his cousin’s challenge go unmet. _“We’ll see about that.”_ _  
__  
_“Pack your things tonight,” Sorin said. “We will leave at first light.”  
  
 _“Yes!”_ Elias whooped, the younger boy immediately rising to his feet to grab a bag from his closet.  
  
 _“Oh, and Kallik,”_ Sorin said, moving to leave the boys’ room, _“Your Tehawan is improving fast. I think by the end of the summer, you will be quite fluent.”_

The dark-haired boy smiled despite himself, unsure of exactly why his uncle’s praise meant so much to him.

\------

For three days, the group did nothing but hunt, fish, swim, and sit by the campfire, each day beginning with the pink of sunrise and concluding with the purple of sunset giving way to the deep dark of the woods. Over the course of the trip much as Kal hated to admit it, his uncle had been right--moving about had given him less time to dwell on everything he’d learned from his mothers.  
  
Sorin had let the two boys hunt with their bows, though it had taken both of their combined efforts to fell a particularly large buck, Kal’s arrow finishing off Elias’ initial strike that landed just short of the heart. The tall blond set about instructing them as to how to skin their quarry and take the best meat, the three celebrating the successful hunt with fire-roasted venison.

“So,” Sorin said, “what do you think?”

“It’s good,” Kal replied, taking another large bite out of his skewer.  
  
Elias sat next to him on the log they shared, preoccupied with devouring his own portion and quite thoroughly pleased that he had helped provide their food himself.  
  
“The best meal is one made with your own hands,” the older man agreed. “Whether hunted or prepared.”  
  
Kal was silent for a moment longer as he ate, eventually finishing off his share. “Is that why you like woodworking? Because you get to use your hands?”  
  
Sorin paused, taking a sip of the ale he had brought with him before shaking his head thoughtfully. _“I enjoy the idea that what I provide for my family is...physical. It feels earned. But it also has a meditative quality. Are you not happier in movement? Where your mind cannot linger in dark places?”_ _  
__  
_The dark-haired boy paused, gazing out briefly at the fireflies in the darkness of the woods.  
  
 _“I have...felt a little better, yes.”_ _  
__  
__“I knew you would, Cousin,”_ Elias added, patting the dark-haired boy’s shoulder with some reassuring force.

 _“Good,”_ Sorin replied with a small chuckle, taking another swallow of his drink. He noted how his nephew’s eyes followed his movement. “Would you like to try some?”

“I--”

“It is okay, Kallik. I would not offer you something I felt you could not handle. I trust you to be a responsible man in regards to drink.”

Kal swallowed thickly--something about being addressed so sincerely as an adult--as a _man--_ gave him a warm feeling of pride. He straightened, sitting a little taller and broader as his uncle reached for another bottle and opened it.  
  
“Hand me your cups, both of you,” he instructed, pouring half of it for Kal and half for Elias alike. “Go on, try it.”

Kal gingerly lifted the drink to his lips--the first with alcohol he’d ever had--and sipped. The light foam at the top bubbled and the liquid was more bitter than he expected with the barest hint of some kind of citrus.  
  
 _“Do you like it, Kallik?”_ the older man asked.  
  
 _“I’m...not sure. Maybe_ ,” Kal admitted.  
  
Sorin laughed, his smile wide as he did so. _“I felt the same way at your age. Bitter, yes?”_

Kal nodded but took another sip, feeling out the taste on his tongue.  
  
“I am impressed you said so,” the tall blond noted. “Not all men are brave enough to admit they may dislike what so many others enjoy. There is a pressure to fall in line. No need to finish it.”

There it was again--his uncle addressing him as if he were an equal. Something about it lingered in his chest, causing him to square his jaw ever so slightly. 

“I’ll finish it,” Kal said. “Might change my mind.”  
  
“Aye,” Sorin said, “there is bravery in that, too.”

\------

The following week saw the two boys returned to Tehawus proper, Kal in a notably lightened mood compared to his arrival, the pair now finding every excuse they could to find something new and exciting to do each day. Ashana had grinned to see even the slightest improvement from her nephew, and she had been more than appreciative of her mate’s efforts.  
  
Eventually the boys had decided to take their daily adventures out of the woods near the redhead’s home and into the busiest part of Tehawus, Elias leading the charge.  
  
 _“I want you to meet my friends from school,”_ the younger boy insisted, guiding Kal along eagerly.  
  
The dark-haired boy looked around curiously. Tehawus had always been such a mix of new and old--unwilling to let go of tradition but still open to integrating everything that had come from Meridian and Port in the last few decades. Cabin-style buildings dominated the space though inside the technology rivaled the desert city’s own. Kal found himself entranced by the combination, and somehow the mixture of past and present seemed to make it all appear even _older_ , in the way his grandmother Aloy often recalled finding the ruins in her youth.

 _“So,”_ Kal began, _“are there going to be any girls to talk to?”_ _  
__  
_Elia raised his eyebrow as they walked. _“Of course, Cousin.”_ _  
__  
__“Yeah, but I mean, are they single?”_ _  
__  
_The younger boy laughed, _“They will be in a group with others.”_ _  
__  
__“That’s not what I meant,”_ Kal replied, exasperated. _“Are you even into girls? Or guys? Or anybody?”_ _  
__  
_Elias shrugged. _“I suppose I have not thought about it too hard. They are my friends, Kal. I do not really...”_ _  
__  
__“You’re like, what, twelve, right?”_ _  
__  
__“Yes,”_ the younger boy answered. 

_“Give it time,”_ Kal laughed. 

_“You are less than two years older than me!”_ _  
__  
__“I know,”_ the older boy joked. _“Things change.”_  
  
Before they could continue, he found Elias waving a group approaching from the distance, boys and girls of a similar range of ages trailing after each other.  
  
 _“These are my friends,”_ Elias began, introducing them all one at a time. 

The group made small talk, impressed that Kal could converse with them in Tehawan--or at least enough to be understood. They roamed lazily from one attraction to the other in the summer heat, eventually settling on a small shop that sold cold flavored drinks. The group of young teens piled in, each securing their own seats.  
  
 _“Go, sit next to Lena,”_ Elias offered with a grin, indicating a girl with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. _“You said you wanted to talk to girls.”_ _  
__  
_Suddenly, despite his earlier interest, Kal felt hesitant, nervousness bubbling up inside him. Still, he pressed on, taking a seat next to the girl anyway. He swallowed hard, trying to settle himself.  
  
 _“So,”_ the girl began, _“do you like Tehawus? I have never met anyone from so far west. It must seem so different.”_ _  
__  
__“I...uh...yes. I like it a lot,”_ Kal stammered, his Tehawan stumbling. _  
__  
_Lena chuckled softly, though he couldn’t tell if he’d amused her or simply embarrassed himself.

 _“What is Meridian like?”_ she asked, leaning across the table from him. _“I hear so many stories, but have never been. They say it is far more forward-thinking than here. So many more colorful lives to be led.”_ _  
__  
__“I...um, I guess you could say that,”_ Kal agreed, shifting uncomfortably.  
  
 _“Elias told us once that you have two mothers, is that true?”_ Lena asked with genuine interest, _“I mean, it is allowed in Tehawus, but uncommon. You are the first I have met.”_

The dark-haired boy’s stomach dropped, a cold, creeping disappointment sinking into his limbs. He was just a spectacle--not anyone she would be truly interested in. He sighed hard, clenching his jaw.  
  
 _“I am not some_ freak!” Kal insisted, throwing the girl off-guard. He backed up slightly, a frown forming on his face.  
  
 _“What…? I did not mean to--I was only curious--”_ _  
__  
_“Why?” the boy retorted, slipping back into English in his frustration. “You think that because I don’t have a father, I’m some oddity you can examine?”  
  
The girl looked at him quizzically, unable to parse his native tongue. _“I am sorry Kal, please--”_ _  
__  
_“I’m leaving,” Kal said loudly, standing up in a huff. “You coming, Elias?”  
  
 _“Cousin, what is wrong? We only just got--”_ _  
__  
_“Fine,” the boy spat. “I’ll go back alone.”

\------

 _“I heard yesterday did not go so well,”_ Sorin said softly, unlocking the door to his woodshop, Kal following behind him.

Kal shrugged, clenching his jaw and rolling his eyes as he entered the space, the smell of cedar and pine filling his nose.  
  
 _“She was not trying to insult you, Kallik,”_ the tall blond continued, directing the boy over to a worktable where his latest piece laid in progress. _“She was merely curious about someone so unique.”_ _  
__  
__“I don’t want to be unique,”_ Kal said quietly. _“I don’t want to be_ different, _I just want to be like everyone else.”_ _  
__  
_Sorin chuckled softly, pulling up a stool for the boy to sit on next to him. _“And why would you want that?”_

The dark-haired boy averted his gaze. _“It would be easier,”_ he admitted. _“And I wouldn’t feel like...like I don’t belong. I don’t fit anywhere. I’m not a Khane Padish, not really. Not a Sobeck. Not...not even a person. I’m just...wrong. Maybe I’m not supposed to exist. Not with everything it took to...make me.”_ _  
__  
__“Kallik, stop.”_

The boy looked up, rapidly blinking away the red in his eyes.

 _“I want to show you something. Do you see this?”_ Sorin asked, gesturing to the wood in his hands.  
  
 _“What is it?”_  
  
 _“A decorative piece for a customer. But what do you notice about the wood? It is...unusual, yes?”_ _  
_ _  
_The boy glanced at the half-carved item, the wood filled with knots and other imperfections.  
  
 _“Rather ugly, yes?”_ Sorin chuckled. _“It is all right to say so.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Why...would you use this piece?”_ Kal asked. _“There are so many other good ones you could choose.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“I think you mean there are so many other boring ones I could choose,”_ Sorin corrected. _“And I could, but I want you to watch what I will do with it.”_

The boy stayed at his side, watching patiently as his uncle worked, hewing out the knots slowly and reaching for a nearby bucket. He sprinkled in some kind of mineral powder, churning the mixture until it was evenly distributed before placing the wood in a mold and pouring the now-colored resin inside.  
  
 _“What are you doing?”_ the dark-haired boy asked.  
  
 _“This piece is unusual,”_ Sorin said, _“which gives me the opportunity to transform it into something far more beautiful than you might think. If it were solid and free of imperfection, there would not be a good opportunity to use this resin. Sometimes when something is as expected, it is hard to change. But when there is something different about it, you can see there are many opportunities you did not realize were possible.”_

Kal nodded obediently, watching as his uncle finished pouring in the mixture, allowing the piece to set. Eventually Sorin removed it from the mold, placing the piece on a spinning mount. He began to polish the piece with some sandpaper, working more and more finely until the resin changed from cloudy to clear. He added some lacquer as he worked, bringing it all to a rich hue. When he was finished, the older man pulled the piece out and sat it before his nephew.  
  
 _“What do you think, Kallik?”_

Kal looked at the sculpted object, amazed at the transformation of the piece that had once been so unsightly. The resin had settled into the spaces where the knots had been, the areas now carrying a nearly-luminous red quality, as if the heat of the desert had somehow been sealed inside while the rest of the wood had been smoothed and stained, bringing out a deep, satisfying color.  
  
 _“It’s amazing,”_ Kal said slowly.

 _“Would you like to learn how to make something like this?”_ Sorin asked, noting the boy’s entranced gaze.  
  
 _“I...you would teach me to make this?”_ _  
__  
__“I would teach you to make beauty out of unsightliness with your own two hands,”_ the blond corrected gently. _“What it becomes is up to you.”_

\------

The dark-haired boy spent the next several weeks working in his uncle’s woodshop, chopping logs, cutting planks, and eventually learning the steps to carve and sculpt. Ashana watched it unfold from a distance, noting how the boy was slowly recovering his sense of self as he did so. The work was hard and physical and it gave him a focus that tempered his rage and despair.

Soon enough, he and Elias were both in good spirits, spending nearly every moment together and it gave the redhead a full feeling behind her ribs to see the two of them bonded so closely, spending their days in the woods or city proper, the pair talking in Tehawan late into the night, though she pretended for their sake that she couldn’t hear them.

The redhead noted how her nephew had calmed, how he had sought her out for assurance or a quiet moment between them. She considered how her mate had watched and guided and carefully steered the boy in the same way he did their own son, always taking them on trips, teaching them a new skill, or simply taking the time to talk to each, in turn.  
  
 _“It looks like my Stormbird is nearly healed,”_ Ashana said, late one night after the boys had finally fallen asleep. Only two weeks remained before she was due to return Kal to Meridian and the redhead had to admit to a pang in her chest at the thought of not having him around.

Sorin nodded thoughtfully, the two laying in bed together, the air warm and heavy in summer’s final stretch. _“He has changed much these last months. There is pride in his step now.”_

 _“We have done well with him,”_ Ashana replied, kissing his bearded cheek. She smirked, leaning into his side and throwing her leg over his own. _“We would have been good at this, I think.”_ _  
__  
_Sorin raised an eyebrow. _“With two, you mean?”_ _  
__  
_The redhead nodded against his chest, sliding one hand just beneath the hem of his shirt. _“It was a temptation, for a time,”_ she admitted.  
  
 _“I recall quite well,”_ the blond agreed, chuckling low in his throat. _“You were not the only one tempted, if you remember.”_

She grinned wickedly against him, thinking back to half a decade earlier for a moment when suddenly he turned to roll, his weight now pressed into her. Sorin kissed at her jaw. _“Do you regret it?”_ he asked softly.  
  
 _“No,”_ Ashana began, kissing him back, _“but I do consider what it would have been like. This summer has been a window into another life but Elias has always been enough, and we will always have Kallik close to us.”_

Sorin nodded in agreement, pausing to meet her eyes before nipping at her throat, his actions suddenly eager and telling.  
  
 _“What are you doing?”_ Ashana asked, amused, the air becoming hotter between them.  
  
 _“Just because we have no regrets does not mean I cannot take joy in tempting you anyway,”_ he said, voice low. 

Ashana smirked. _“Well you_ are _difficult to resist.”_

\------

 _“Are you ready to see it, Uncle?”_ Kal asked, his Tehawan flowing perfectly.  
  
Sorin grinned and crossed his arms, eager to get his eyes on Kal’s weeks-long project. After learning the basics and asking questions as they came, the dark-haired boy had set forth working on his own, spending more time in the workshop than even Sorin himself some days. 

The boy uncovered his piece, removing the cloth covering slowly.

 _“Do you like it?”_ Kal asked tentatively.  
  
Sorin leaned in, his blue eyes lighting up as he examined the work. Unlike his own, it appeared to be rather rooted in function, in the form of a smooth and polished bowl. The top glistened with slick icy-blue resin that faded down into a pure white the further it went, so much like the ice of the Cut. It was remarkably well made for the little experience the boy had and the older man found himself impressed.  
  
Sorin grinned. _“I do. You have shown much skill in such a short amount of time and I am impressed at how dedicated you have been in the pursuit. But I can praise your work all day long and it will mean nothing if you do not like what you have created. Do you?”_

Kal considered for a moment, ruffling at his hair. _“I do...it makes me feel...proud, I think.”_

 _“It should, Kallik. You crafted something well-made and poured all of yourself into it. I am glad to have called you my apprentice this summer.”_ _  
__  
_The boy smiled wide, not bothering to hide the elation his uncle’s praise brought. He had _done_ this. Made it himself. Nothing could take that away. 

_“Ah now the real question. Who will you give it to? Perhaps Lena? Elias has told me you two had quite the reconciliation these last weeks,_ ” Sorin grinned, leaning forward to nudge his nephew’s shoulder. _“Did she kiss you?”_ _  
__  
_Kal blushed intensely, averting his gaze for a moment. _“You said a gentleman never brags about those things.”_ _  
__  
__“Aye, you speak true my boy. I am glad you remembered.”_ _  
__  
__“So was that a trick question?”_ _  
__  
__“No, Kallik. It was...an observation--of your character. And I am glad to see yours is strong. You are a good man. That is something only you can control and nothing can take it from you. Not origin, not circumstance. You know this, yes?”_

Kal swallowed thickly, standing tall and broad at Sorin’s words. _“I know that now, Uncle.”_ _  
__  
_Sorin reached forward, grabbing the boy in a tight embrace.  
  
 _“Never forget it.”_

\------  
  
The trip back to Meridian passed quickly and Ashana had to admit it was even faster than she would have liked. Kal was notably more upbeat, spending nearly the whole of their journey in conversation with her. As the VTOL touched down on the outskirts of Meridian, she felt herself struck by how much she would miss the boy.  
  
 _“You are quite fluent now, Kallik,”_ she complimented, moving to help him gather his bags from inside the vehicle. The boy blushed and nodded his thanks in response before they opened the sliding door and exited, the two greeted once more by the familiar desert. _“Are you ready to see them?”_ _  
__  
_The boy’s lips pressed thin. _“I’m a little nervous,”_ he admitted. _“Do you think they’ll...forgive everything I said before I left?”_  
  
 _“Of course, Kallik,”_ Ashana reassured.  
  
 _“How are you so certain?”_ _  
__  
__“They are your mothers. Trust that I know,”_ his aunt said, the corner of her mouth ticking up.

She looked at Kal with soft eyes, hugging him once their feet touched the dusty ground.  
  
 _“Thank you for taking me this summer Aunt Ash. I...I don’t know what I would have done if--”_ _  
__  
_Ashana blinked back the redness in her eyes as she parted from their embrace, placing her hands on his shoulders--which were notably higher now.  
  
“My Stormbird can fly once more,” she said softly in English. “That is all I ever wanted.”

Footsteps padded in the distance, announcing the arrival of Kal’s mothers, Anukai dressed in a blue tunic while Ikrie trailed behind her in red, the dark-haired woman’s face trying desperately not to betray her eagerness.  
  
“Hey you two,” Anukai yelped excitedly. The redhead and her wife approached quickly--it had been a little over three months since she had seen her son and it felt like a lifetime.  
  
“Kal has had quite the summer in Tehawus, and I promise I have returned him in better condition than I found him,” Ashana laughed, quickly embracing her sister and kissing her cheek lightly.  
  
Anukai’s smile was broad and open as Kal willingly walked forward into her arms, hugging her hard.  
  
“Mama...I’m...I’m so sorry I--”  
  
“It’s okay kiddo,” Anukai said quietly, rocking a little on her feet as she held him. “I missed you too.”

Ikrie brought up the rear, lifting her head to finally take a look at her son as he embraced Anukai, noting that he was taller, now even with her own height and on his way to exceeding it. His shoulders were broader, and he seemed layered with muscle he hadn’t had just a few months prior. The dark-haired woman gasped.  
  
Somehow over the course of the summer, her little boy had grown up.  
  
Kal parted from his redheaded mother gently, moving over to Ikrie.  
  
“Mom, I--please forgive me,” he said, his voice cracking just a touch. “Everything I said...I-I was wrong.”  
  
Ikrie pulled the boy in hard, grasping him like she would never let go and Kal could feel the nervous pounding of her heart against his chest as she did so. The two stayed like that for a minute or two before she finally relinquished her hold, kissing her son’s forehead.  
  
“I never meant to make you doubt yourself, Kal.”  
  
“I know, Mom. And I don’t--not now.”

The boy quickly set down one of his bags and began to unzip it, procuring a rounded item kept safe in its own cloth.  
  
“It’s for you,” he said sheepishly, his eyes studying Ikrie’s every breath.  
  
Ikrie’s eyes lightened. “For me?”  
  
“Open it.”  
  
The dark-haired woman began to unwrap the cloth, Anukai and Ashana coming to stand at her side. She uncovered a perfectly smooth, wooden bowl, the resin at the top so blue it nearly glowed.  
  
“Kal, this is...wow. Ash told us you were working in Sorin’s shop but--” Anukai began.  
  
“I love the blue,” Ikrie grinned. “Reminds me of--”  
  
“Ice,” she and Kal said simultaneously. “It’s...where I come from,” he continued. “The ice--the Cut. You.”

Ikrie looked at the boy, an instant lump in her throat as hot tears formed in her eyes and her lower lip trembled. “You really mean that? A few months ago…”  
  
“A few months ago I was being stupid,” Kal said, squeezing her hand. “No one can decide who or what I am...except for me. You’re _both_ my mothers, and this is _my_ family.” Ikrie swallowed hard, relief flooding her core. He was _hers_ . He was _home_. 

“Every time I think I know how wondrous your song will be, you add another verse, Kallik.”


	3. Back Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by NorthernGhost
> 
> (hint: this is set during the events of the previous two, simultaneously)

The sounds of faint voices echoed through the partially-cracked doorway across the room, although the angle hid any signs of the speakers, themselves. The redhead’s knee bobbed anxiously against the edge of the wooden table, her hands wringing in her lap as she stared vacantly at the floor a few feet in front of her. She had lost track of how long she had been in the room, but she remembered she had given up on pacing almost immediately, as the shaking in her knees was stronger than her nervous energy.

A moment later, the sound of a soft ringing came through the crack in the door and her eyes immediately flicked toward it. The silence that followed lasted for several moments before the voices were replaced by footsteps echoing through the gap. As they drew closer and louder, the redhead swallowed heavily, laying her hands flat atop her legs and pressing the warm, clammy surface into the fabric of her leggings to try to still the trembling in her fingers.

Just then, the footsteps reached the doorway and a hand pushed it open, revealing the figure on the other side.

“Sorry about her,” Vansa sighed, stepping into the room and rubbing her eyes tiredly. “Yana likes to talk… and talk… and talk.”

Lana laughed softly, but it didn’t sound entirely convincing; the twisting in her stomach was too strong to allow her to truly let the light feeling overtake her chest.

“Anyway, how’re you feeling?” the healer asked. “You said you felt… sick to your stomach?”

“Well… technically yes,” she said slowly. “I… it’s probably not an illness…”

Vansa’s eyebrows raised as she came to a stop before the teenage redhead seated on her examination table.

“Something else making your stomach churn?”

Lana nodded, raising a hand to nervously brush some of her auburn hair behind one ear and noting her fingers trembled uncontrollably.

“Something someone said to you?”

“T-technically…”

Vansa remained silent, waiting patiently as the girl took a deep breath, summoning the courage to speak.

“I… Moms told… me and Kal… about…  _ us _ … today…”

The healer’s expression contorted in mild confusion as Lana cleared her throat.

“About… where we… how we came… to be…”

Vansa’s eyes widened as her lips parted in a soft “oh”, her posture softening slightly, as well.

“Grandma… Ash… Ara… m-my mother…” Lana continued, “all… all…”

“They are,” the healer said softly, taking a tentative step closer to the girl. “It was a lot for me to process when I learned, too… but… in your position… I understand—”

“Am I—” Lana interrupted, finally meeting Vansa’s eyes directly for the first time since she had entered the room, “am I… like them?”

The brunette’s brow furrowed in concern as she took a final step forward, stopping before Lana and gently placing her hands on the girl’s upper arms.

“They told you where you came from,” she said softly, “including your—father, I suppose he is?”

Lana nodded.

“Then you know the answer,” Vansa continued, “but I’ll give you it anyway: you’re not like that. You’re— _ new _ .”

Lana let out a heavy, shuddering sigh that nearly seemed to break into a sob at the end, prompting the healer to let out a soft sound in sympathy, sliding her arms behind Lana’s back and pulling her into an embrace as the redhead buried her face in Vansa’s shoulder. They remained still for a long minute or so before the healer gently began to push the teenager upright in her seat, keeping her hands on her arms, once again.

“I take it this is why you came to me and not your aunt?”

Lana nodded, sniffling as her eyes grew watery and red, the teenager quickly reaching to wipe at them.

“What about your brother?” Vansa continued softly. “You came alone.”

“He’s… he didn’t take it well,” the redhead muttered. “ _ At all _ .”

The healer’s expression contorted in concern, massaging the girl’s arms gently.

“Is he…?”

“He’s still alive, yes,” Lana replied, laughing hoarsely. “He just… he looked like a ghost—so pale and… and like he wanted to disappear into the air of the living room…”

Vansa let out a heavy sigh that almost seemed in relief, bowing her head for a moment before glancing up to meet the redhead’s eyes.

“If you want to stay for a bit, I don’t have any more appointments today, but I’ve got some prep work for tomorrow. You can just… sit and… we can talk or… not, if you want.”

Lana drew a deep breath, nodding as she wiped at her eyes, once again.

“I… I don’t know what else there is to talk about… about it all,” she sighed.

“Well… then we don’t have to talk about  _ it _ ,” Vansa said. “Can just talk, if you want it.”

The redhead nodded, sliding off the examination table and grabbing her bag set on the floor before it to sling over one shoulder, following the healer into the main room of her shop. Vansa slipped behind the counter toward her workbenches while Lana dropped her bag atop it, hopping onto it and taking a seat with a soft grunt.

“What are you… what’re you prepping?” she asked.

“Some prescriptions, but also running some tests on this prosthetic hand,” Vansa sighed, gesturing to a gleaming, silver appendage braced atop a simple, wooden brace, a few tools scattered across the surface nearby. “Have to make sure he can hold a mug of ale without dropping it, but also make sure he doesn’t crush it if he gets a little carried away.”

The healer was beginning to laugh as she spoke until she suddenly stopped, her laughter catching in her throat as she swallowed heavily, glancing over at Lana, who attempted to grin, but it was entirely unconvincing.

“Anyhow, have to make sure it works because he’s coming by first thing in the morning,” Vansa sighed. “Your Grandma ever show you anything about machines and building them, stuff like this?”

“Little,” Lana shrugged. “More about what goes into them, but Kal’s always been the one who likes taking them apart and putting them back together.”

“That he has,” the healer sighed, flicking on an artificial work light over the hand and reaching for her tools. “Part of me has wondered if he’d want to apprentice to take over this place when I get old and bored… but part of me also says he wouldn’t find medicine for little old ladies to be all that interesting.”

Lana nodded, but remained silent as she stared down at her knees for a moment. Finally, she sighed, hopping off the counter.

“Listen, I’m sorry Vansa, I… I’m not sure I can talk about… about family right now,” she said softly. “It’s not your fault, and… thank you so much for… being willing to listen and talk, but…”

“You’ve realized it’s not what you need,” Vansa interrupted, nodding as she turned from her work before it had even really begun, “I get it. You’ve gotta get that head of yours in a different space… focus on different things.”

“Yeah… a… a different space…” the redhead mumbled softly, nodding as her eyes glazed over, staring distantly at the space to the right of the healer for a moment or two until she cleared her throat, blinking and returning the clarity to her gaze. “Thank you so much Vansa.”

The brunette grinned, stepping over to the redhead and wrapping her in an embrace that the teenager returned easily.

“Of course, Lana,” she said. “You’re always welcome—just might have to wait for those little old ladies to stop talking, but they do eventually.”

The redhead laughed, the first genuine one since she had entered the shop, and nodded into the healer’s shoulder. When they pulled apart, the teenager took a deep breath, turning to grab her bag and pull the strap over one shoulder, again.

“Tell Aunt Ara I love her,” she said, glancing back at Vansa, “and I’ll talk to her soon.”

“Sure thing,” Vansa replied, nodding.

With that, Lana offered a small smile before turning and making her way around the counter toward the front door. As the redhead left to the sound of the soft ringing of the bell above the doorway, Vansa let out a heavy sigh, a frown twisting her lips before she pulled her Focus from her pocket and slid it beside her ear. A moment later, she had opened a call, the synthetic chime ringing in her ear as she waited for the other end to pick up.

“Hey Van,” Anukai sighed as she answered. “Lana with you?”

“Just left,” the healer replied.

“She okay?”

“Bit shaken but… I’m not concerned about anything,” she shrugged.

“That’s… that’s good…” the other woman sighed. “I… I wish I could say the same for both of my kids…”

“I heard Kal took it rough.”

“That’s an understatement.”

Vansa winced slightly, leaning back against the counter and folding her arms over her chest.

“They both just need a little space,” she sighed.

“I know, I know, but… it’s so hard because… because I feel like we—”

“You didn’t do anything to them,” Vansa interrupted, cutting off the thought before Anukai could verbalize it. “You told them the truth, which they needed to know at some point. Now… we just have to help them process it.”

A brief paused followed before Anukai replied, the hints of relief and a faint smile evident in her tone.

“Thanks, Van.”

“Call me if you need me,” the healer replied, nodding.

With that, they bid each other goodbye and Vansa ended the call, but left her Focus beside her ear. Sighing, she made her way back to her work bench, bracing her hands on the edge of it to either side of her project and staring absentmindedly down at it for several long moments before drawing a deep breath in through her nose and grabbing her tools.

“Need to get your head in a different space…”

Anukai tapped her Focus as the call ended, but her hand remained beside the device for several long moments until she finally pulled it from its place, curling her fist gently around it. A moment later, motion out of the corner of her eye drew her attention and she glanced over as Ikrie leaned against her side, wrapping her arms about her mate’s middle.

“Lana?”

“Van,” Anukai replied, “about Lana.”

“She okay?”

“Van thought so,” the redhead sighed, carefully placing the device on the counter before her and returning the embrace to her side, squeezing the dark-haired woman to her side securely.

They remained silent for several long moments until the sound of soft sniffling drew Anukai’s attention to her mate, once again.

“I drove them both away…”

“You didn’t,” the redhead soothed, rubbing one hand firmly across Ikrie’s back. “We knew it was going to be… tough…”

“But it was my idea to do it now,” the dark-haired woman interjected.

“Now, tomorrow, next week… wasn’t going to change it,” Anukai said softly. “We couldn’t hold onto this forever.”

“For our sake… or theirs?”

The redhead’s jaw clenched tightly as she continued to embrace her mate, the motion with her hand slowly somewhat, but maintaining a steady rhythm. Finally, she sighed, turning and gently beginning to guide Ikrie out of the kitchen and toward the living room.

“Come, sit with me.”

The other woman obliged, padding with her to the couch, where Anukai sank onto it first before turning and gesturing for Ikrie to join her, opening her arms wide. The dark-haired woman sank into her seat, half-atop her mate, as Anukai guided her head toward her chest, Ikrie’s cheek coming to rest just below the redhead’s collarbone.

“What if—”

“Shh,” Anukai interrupted softly. “Just breathe for a little bit, Ikrie.”

“But—”

“ _ Breathe _ . Slowly—in and out—with me.”

The dark-haired woman let out a heavy sigh before seeming to make a point to follow the redhead’s measured breathing. Slowly, it seemed to work as she felt her mate’s weight sink more and more into her, the tension beginning to leave her body as a seeming fatigue replaced it. Despite this, Ikrie still turned her face into her mate’s shirt, warm tears quickly staining the fabric. Anukai remained silent, however, gently reaching up to card her fingers through her dark hair, brushing some of it away from her face and behind one ear before resuming the previous motions.

“Doesn’t deserve me…” Ikrie mumbled.

“You  _ know _ that’s not true,” Anukai whispered.

“Should have… real mother…”

The redhead’s jaw clenched for a moment as she leaned forward to press a soft kiss to the crown of her mate’s head.

“You  _ are _ his real mother.”

“No… wouldn’t do…  _ this _ to… to her child…”

“Love him? Carry him into this world? Ikrie, you’ve done everything I or so many other mothers have done except…”

“Except what?”

Anukai sighed heavily.

“You know the answer to that.”

“Except the part that makes it real?”

“Just because you did not have sex with some guy who then got you pregnant doesn’t make you less of a mother,” Anukai finally said shortly, but quietly, so that her voice didn’t carry beyond the room.

Ikrie seemed to flinch at her words, one hand curling instinctively around her mate’s shirt over her stomach, but she didn’t pull away, if anything she seemed to press closer against Anukai.

“I’m sorry, I—think of it this way,” she continued. “You wanted him so badly… you willed him into existence. You looked out at the world and—and demanded him… and so he’s here. That… that means so much.”

Ikrie remained silent, but the wet spot on Anukai’s shirt only seemed to grow larger, leaving the redhead to sigh softly and squeeze her mate a little tighter, rocking her gently in place. After several long minutes, the redhead inhaled deeply, leaning forward to press another kiss against the crown of Ikrie’s head.

“I know you’ll understand me… even if maybe not right now, today.”

The sound of a soft knocking drew both of the elder women’s attentions from the moving picture streaming from their Focuses, Talanah reaching to pause it first.

“You expecting anyone?” she asked softly.

Aloy was silent, staring at the door for a moment or two before swallowing heavily and moving to rise from her seat sunken into the couch and her wife’s side. Without a word, she crossed to the front door, pulling it open without checking the small camera screen installed beside the handle.

“Lana,” she said warmly, an easy smile overtaking her features.

The teenager grinned sheepishly, shifting the bag held over her shoulder slightly.

“Hey Grandma,” she said, “I… hope I’m not interrupting…”

“We were just watching an old movie,” Aloy said, shrugging. “Come in.”

Lana seemed to pause for a moment, a strange expression crossing her features for a moment before she gave in, clearing her throat and stepping into the house. As soon as she set her bag down on the floor beside the door and kicked off her boots, the elder redhead pulled her into a secure embrace, which Lana returned readily.

After several long moments of silence, with Aloy gently running her hand over the girl’s auburn hair, Lana cleared her throat.

“Mama tell you?”

“Not exactly.”

Lana shifted under Aloy’s grip slightly, but didn’t pull away immediately. Finally, they parted, leaving the teenager to sniffle slightly as she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Sorry…” she muttered.

“You’re okay, kiddo,” the elder redhead replied. “Come on, we were only a little ways into the movie.”

“Oh… o-okay…”

Aloy smiled softly but led Lana to the couch, where she offered her the spot she had formerly occupied at Talanah’s side. The teenager glanced at her curiously, but took the seat at Aloy’s insistence. As she did, she turned to wrap the still almost entirely raven-haired Carja in a gentle but warm embrace.

“Hey, Nana,” she sighed.

“If I’d known you were coming, I’d have made you some of your favorite tea,” Talanah replied, grinning.

“I’ll get it,” Aloy chimed in, turning to head toward the kitchen.

“You sure?” the elder Carja shot back, raising one eyebrow. “It is a…  _ Carja specialty _ .”

“I think I understand how you make tea by now,” she shot back, rolling her eyes.

As the elder redhead disappeared into the kitchen, Lana turned her attention back to her raven-haired grandmother, shifting her seat on the couch slightly.

“While I’m certainly not complaining,” Talanah began, “I am somewhat surprised you showed up suddenly. Everything okay, Lana?”

The teenager shifted uncomfortably before attempting to shrug, but it was clear the Carja was not going to let it go at that.

“Don’t make me break out my full name on you…”

Lana finally cracked into a grin as she shook her head, her grandmother mirroring her expression.

“I… I think we should wait until Grandma gets back,” she said softly.

Talanah nodded in understanding, but wrapped one arm around the girl’s shoulders, squeezing her against her side as Lana sank further into the comfortable cushions of the couch. A few minutes later, Aloy returned with three mugs in hand, passing two of them off before carefully taking a seat on Lana’s other side with her own.

“Ready to start?” the elder redhead asked.

“Actually, Grandma…” Lana interjected, cradling her mug carefully in both hands, “can we… talk… first?”

The elder redhead blew on her mug for a moment before nodding, turning to face her granddaughter slightly more from her seat. The teenager drew a slow, deep breath, before explaining the events earlier that night at her home, detailing the twists and turns and stomach-sinking feelings as her mothers told her the story of how she and her brother had come to be, as well as who their “father” was—a question she admitted she had considered from time to time before.

By the time she had finished, both of her grandmothers had slid closer to her, encompassing the teenager in a trap of warmth, both physical and in feeling.

“I… I guess I… it was weird to learn about… Bekan, but… I had a feeling… there was  _ someone _ it had to be, but… but learning about… all of you…”

Lana’s gaze fixed on the elder redhead to her right, prompting her to tilt her head slightly.

“How do you feel about it?”

“I… I don’t know…” Lana admitted, hanging her head. “The… obviously you all look alike, but… I just thought it was… strong genes… I don’t know…”

“Well, you could say that, still,” Aloy laughed softly, “but I know it’s a lot and… not a typical family—”

“So this is why Mama and Ara and Ash didn’t grow up with you,” Lana finally said softly, interrupting her.

The elder redhead sighed softly, glancing down at her mug before nodding.

“I met your mother when she was older than you, and that was the first time I knew she existed,” she said softly. “I was… about as shocked as you are now, I think.”

Lana’s lips pulled into a thin line as Aloy leaned toward her slightly.

“That didn’t change where we’ve ended up, though,” she said softly. “Didn’t stop me from loving her as if I had known her all along.”

“But… have you ever felt… I don’t know…  _ strange _ … that… that none of them are…  _ yours _ ?”

Aloy remained still for a long moment or two as Lana felt herself subconsciously shrinking into the couch, panic that she had hit on the absolute wrong nerve beginning to spread from her chest like flame across oil.

“I didn’t give birth to them, no,” the elder redhead finally said, “but why does that mean that I can’t decide that they’re mine?”

“I—”

“I did, and I hoped that they would feel the same… and while your mother and I share the closest bond of that… we have all allowed each other into our lives in some capacity rooted in that idea—that we belong  _ together _ , that we belong to each other. We took a strange situation that no one has ever run into—to my knowledge—and we said  _ fuck it _ , we’ll do it anyway.”

Lana’s eyes widened at the strength of her grandmother’s tone, until the elder redhead’s face cracked into a grin.

“I’m not mad at you, Lana,” she said softly. “I just feel… very strongly, and I want you to know it.”

“I…” Lana trailed off, her vision growing distant as a warm, heavy feeling sunk over her, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “I know it.”

“Do you?” Aloy teased, smirking.

“I… I do, Grandma… I’m sorry, I…”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” she interrupted. “You’ve had a lot placed on you, but I just want you to feel comfortable, right here, right now. It’s just you and your grandmas… watching one of our boring old person movies and drinking tea.”

Lana laughed easily for the first time since she had arrived, sipping at her drink and sighing as she sank into the back of the couch contentedly.

“That sounds amazing to me, right now, Grandma…”

As Lana entered the front door of the apartment, she carefully glanced around the living room for signs of motion, but found none. Exhaling in relief, she slipped fully inside, quietly pushing the door closed behind her before sliding her boots off and turning to pad toward her room. It was early, so early that her grandmothers had barely been awake when she decided to leave, but something had compelled her back to her own house, pulled her away from the warm blanket that seemed to have fallen over her the night before. The closer she had drawn to home, the more it felt like that had been pulled away, leaving her shaking at a chill that ran down her spine and refused to go away.

As she had reached the front door, it had grown so intense she feared the worst, and now that she had entered the hallway with the various bedrooms leading off of it, she found herself paralyzed before her brother’s door. She swallowed heavily, her right hand reaching toward the knob for a moment before her fingers curled into a fist and she stopped.

Inhaling slowly through her nose, she carefully slid forward across the wood floor to her own door, slipping inside her room and depositing her bag on the floor just inside it. The sunlight was muted by the dark blinds drawn over the windows on the far side of the room, casting the room in a soft, almost grey glow, despite the glaring sun she had walked under on her trek through Meridian minutes ago.

Lana made her way to her bed, carefully sinking onto it and burying her face in her pillow before exhaling slowly. She kept herself buried in the semi-muted darkness for several minutes, attempting to regulate her breathing to trick her body into sleep, but the chills that continued to run across her skin prevented her heart from stilling enough. Finally, she pushed herself back off her bed, running her hands through her hair for a moment.

Letting out a soft growl of frustration, she made her way to her bedroom door, slipping back into the hallway and moving toward Kal’s door without closing her own. When she reached his, she faltered again, this time with her hand wrapped around the knob. After a long moment or two, she attempted to turn it, only to find that it wouldn’t budge. She carefully tried again, but with the same result.

“Lana?”

She jumped at the voice to her left, sliding away from her brother’s door and whirling to the end of the hallway to find Ikrie standing outside her door, just beginning to pull it closed behind her. The teenager paused as she took in the sight of her dark-haired mother, dark circles incredibly prominent beneath her eyes, while her eyelids seemed slightly puffy, and her robe was haphazardly tied shut before her.

“Morning, Mom,” Lana said softly.

Ikrie sighed, nodding, stepping away from her door and approaching the young redhead. As the dark-haired woman approached, she suddenly wrapped her daughter in a tight embrace, Lana returning it quickly. They remained standing in the middle of the hallway in silence for several long moments before Ikrie finally released her, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand almost immediately. Lana frowned slightly, keeping her hands on her mother’s shoulders for a moment before nodding toward the living room.

“C’mon, Mom.”

She led her into the sun-drenched space, the windows on one side providing enough light to fully illuminate the room without the need for any additional light sources, but also bringing a sense of warmth to the room. Lana found it still didn’t stave off the chills that had coated her ever since returning, however.

“You’re up early,” Ikrie muttered, taking a seat on the couch as Lana sat beside her.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Lana shrugged. “Felt like… I had to come home.”

The dark-haired woman nodded, adjusting the front of her silk robe slightly.

“Glad you did.”

The teenager offered a small smile to her before leaning in and wrapping one arm behind Ikrie’s shoulders, leaning her head on her mother’s shoulder.

“Are you… okay after… yesterday?”

Lana paused for a moment before sighing heavily and nodding.

“Not… angry?”

“Not angry,” the redhead confirmed, shaking her head slightly. “Felt… weird last night but… better this morning.”

Ikrie audibly sighed, wrapping her arm behind her daughter’s back, as well and squeezing her gently to her side.

“Where’d you go?”

“Grandma and Nana’s.”

“How are they?”

Lana laughed softly, adjusting her grip about her mother.

“Fine, as always.”

Silence hung over them for a minute or two, until Lana found her eyes had slid closed. She was beginning to finally feel the onset of fatigue, again, when Ikrie began to shift, prompting her eyes to flutter open.

“You’re falling asleep, again,” Ikrie laughed softly. “Sleep on their couch?”

“Yeah,” Lana yawned.

“You should get some rest in your own bed.”

“I’m good,” the redhead shook her head.

“Not after what I just saw.”

“I want to spend time with you,” Lana said, prompting Ikrie’s motions to pause.

Silence hung over them for another few moments before the dark-haired woman laughed softly.

“Sure thing, Lana.”

With that, Ikrie carefully sat back on the couch, using her arm about her daughter to gently guide her into lying down. Lana followed her cue, stretching out across the couch, her feet easily reaching the arm on the far end, before lying her head in her mother’s lap. Ikrie began to slowly card her fingers through Lana’s hair, the redhead’s eyes soon sliding closed, once again.

For a time, Lana remained lying still with her eyes closed, but she remained awake, focusing on the sensation of Ikrie’s fingers through her hair and the gentleness of her motions, until the actual fatigue began to overtake her, and she dozed off, sinking farther into a sea of warmth and security.

Despite everything, she still couldn’t lose the feeling of chills across her back.

“Please, let’s both talk to her.”

“He won’t talk to either of us, what makes you think he’ll talk to Ash?”

Anukai ground her teeth as she leaned against the kitchen counter before her, her mate standing on the opposite side with her arms tightly folded over her chest.

“You know his—bond—with her…”

“And it’s greater than his with me?”

“I’m not saying that!” Anukai shot back, catching herself to make sure she didn’t truly shout, her eyes darting to the end of the bedroom hallway for a moment before returning to Ikrie. “He’s not talking to  _ us _ , Ikrie… maybe he’ll talk to her.”

The dark-haired woman’s jaw worked tensely as the redhead swore she saw something like rage cross her features for a moment before her posture ultimately deflated.

“So you want her to just… get out here and… break down his door?”

“Not exactly…”

Ikrie’s brow creased in confusion as Anukai sighed.

“Maybe what… maybe he needs…”

The dark-haired woman’s eyebrows raised as her lips parted in shock.

“You… you want to  _ send him away _ ?!”

Anukai recoiled at the venom in her mate’s tone, swallowing heavily against the lump in her throat.

“No, Ikrie, I want to offer him… something that might… break him out of this rut…”

“By asking him to  _ leave _ , Anukai!”

The redhead pushed away from the counter, circling it to approach her mate, but Ikrie attempted to dodge her attempted to take her by the upper arms, leaving Anukai to raise her hands in surrender and take a step back.

“Ikrie, I… I don’t like that… this is…”

“If you don’t  _ like _ it, why suggest it?”

“Because I don’t know what else to do,” Anukai finally said, her voice cracking slightly.

Ikrie paused, something unreadable flashing across her eyes as the redhead bowed her head for a moment, sniffling softly before drawing a deep breath.

“We’ve tried everything, Ikrie,” she continued, her tone ragged. “We’ve tried asking him… tried just talking to him… tried offering all kinds of things he loves… and he won’t talk to us—actively hides from us… I-I don’t know what to do to reach our son…”

Anukai tentatively stepped forward, once again, but this time Ikrie allowed her to gently place her hands on her arms, squeezing them for a moment before sliding down to take her hands between them.

“I feel like I’m… grasping at straws in a dwindling hay bale,” she continued softly. “Every one, we have to throw out because it’s not the right one and—”

“I know,” Ikrie interrupted, bowing her head for a moment before nodding slightly. “I know…”

Several long moments of silence passed between them before Anukai drew a slow breath.

“Can we… can we try this, at least?”

Ikrie slowly looked up at her, revealing her bloodshot eyes, covered in a watery sheen, once again. They met Anukai’s for several long moments before she finally nodded, ever so slightly.

“Let’s call Ash.”

The redhead held her gaze for several long moments before nodding, offering a small, weak smile before leaning in to place a gentle kiss against Ikrie’s lips. When she pulled away, Anukai squeezed her hands, once again.

“I… you’re sure? You know I didn’t suggest this… easily or… because…”

Ikrie nodded, leaning forward to press a kiss against the redhead, stopping the words in her throat. When they pulled apart, once again, she released Anukai’s hands to instead wrap her in a tight embrace. They remained still for several long moments before they slowly pulled apart, leaving Anukai room to tap her Focus, bringing up the call function. She linked her device with Ikrie’s before choosing the contact for her sister.

The ringing chime sounded only twice before the call was answered, although the sounds of commotion came for another second or two until a low, raspy voice came over the line.

“Anukai, is everything all right?”

“Ash, well… yes and no,” Anukai sighed before glancing at the clock on her device’s interface. “Shit, I’m sorry, I forgot that out there it’s so late…”

“It is no problem,” Ashana replied. “I had a—feeling—that something was wrong.”

“It’s… it’s Kal, Ash,” Ikrie finally sighed, leaning her weight against her mate’s side and wrapping one arm loosely behind her lower back.

“He is not injured, I presume,” the other redhead replied.

“No, he’s—”

They were interrupted by Ashana sighing something in Tehawan, although her tone sounded somewhat relieved.

“I have not feared that lives were at stake, but… it is good to know this, sister,” she replied in English, finally. “However, I have… not felt well in several days.”

“You… knew?” Ikrie asked tentatively.

“I have had a feeling… as I have come to know from my sisters from time to time,” Ashana said, “and… I know what it is to worry for your son.”

Anukai’s lips drew into a thin line for a moment or two until she cleared her throat.

“This is why we’ve called you.”

A pause followed before Ashana replied.

“I sense not just to tell me of this.”

“No… to ask for… help,” Anukai continued slowly.

“Anything I can offer, sister,” the other redhead said almost instantly.

Anukai and Ikrie exchanged glances before the redhead drew a slow, deep breath.

“What would you think of Kal getting out of Meridian… and visiting Tehawus… for a little while?”

Lana paused at the cracked door, one fist raised to knock, part of her telling her not to, but ultimately she drew strength as she inhaled deeply and rapped her knuckles against the wooden portal. The sound of a noncommittal grunt from inside the room greeted her, so she began to push the door open slowly. When it was open enough for her to step inside, she found Kal sitting on the edge of his bed, a bag seemingly mostly full of clothes beside him.

“So… really doing this,” the redhead said quietly, leaning against the doorframe.

“Yeah, well… some people made a strong case,” he said shortly, shrugging. “Besides, maybe it’ll be like a vacation… or something.”

“Not here, at least.”

He stared back at her with a strange expression for a moment before shaking his head and letting out a low laugh.

“Yeah… not here, at least.”

Lana’s jaw clenched as she felt something squirm in her stomach and she inhaled deeply through her nose.

“I’m going to miss you,” she finally said.

“Longest we’ve been apart… ever, right?” he replied.

“Yeah, think so.”

“Well… it’ll be interesting.”

The redhead folded her arms across her chest, hanging her head slightly, but remaining silent.

“Anything else you wanted?” Kal finally asked, breaking the stillness.

“I wanted to say goodbye to my brother before he leaves for a few months,” Lana snapped, lifting her gaze to meet his, once again. “Maybe if you see him, you can tell him that, and that I hope he comes back in one piece at the end of the summer.”

With that, she pushed away from the doorway and stalked toward her own door, throwing it open before closing it a little harder than she had intended, although she barely paid it any mind as she made her way directly to her bed and threw herself onto it with a growl of frustration. Lana remained lying in place, occasionally scrolling through music and movies for a little while until she heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway outside. She paused the song she was currently listening to as she tried to make out what may be happening.

Along with the footsteps, multiple, hushed voices made their way through the closed door, until one set of footsteps seemed to recede toward the living space, while another approached her door. A soft knock sounded and she cleared her throat.

“Yeah?”

The portal cracked open a bit, revealing her redheaded mother as she leaned in through it.

“You coming with us to say bye to Kal? Ash just landed.”

Lana drew in a breath sharply through her nose, folding her arms over her chest.

“I already tried to say goodbye.”

A few moments of silence followed before Anukai sighed heavily, her head hanging for a moment. She looked as if she wanted to say more, but ultimately just nodded, glancing up at Lana with a thin-lipped expression before backing out of the room. The teenager listened to the sounds of her mother’s footsteps receding, but waited to resume her attempts at amusement until she heard the front door of the apartment close, Anukai’s voice calling out that they would be back in “a little while” echoing faintly through her door just before.

Once she was sure they were gone, Lana moved to restart the song she had been listening to, only to pause, hand outstretched, and curl her fingers into a fist. Instead, she tapped the side of her Focus and rolled off her bed. Her feet carried her to her door, her hand twisting the knob and letting her out into the hallway. A moment later, she had let herself into Kal’s room, once again, although this time her feet brought her to the center of it before allowing her to stop.

Slowly, the redhead turned in place, taking in the space for several moments, noting how places such as his desk that had once been clean and organized now showed signs of neglect, such as multiple dirty plates and glasses, and his bed had been left unmade before leaving—small things for anyone else, including Lana herself, but notable from her brother.

After heaving a heavy sigh, she sank into a seat on the edge of his bed, folding her arms over her chest. Her gaze swept blankly around the room several times, as she tried to figure out what exactly the sensation with a death grip around her chest was, until her eyes caught something in the closet across from her. Her vision regained its clarity as she rose from the bed, moving over to the open doorway and coming to a stop just inside it.

Lana’s hand instinctively reached toward the object that had caught her attention, pulling it carefully off the shelf inside. The redhead slowly turned the stuffed Stormbird toy over in her hands, noting the few, frayed seams, as well as how the fabric of the blue “storm gun” on its chest seemed somewhat faded from what she remembered as a child. The feeling in her chest quickly began to change from something restrictive, easy to identify but hard to define, to something much… stranger—harder to identify but suddenly much easier to define.

With a small smile on her lips, Lana held the Stormbird toy to her chest before making her way back to her own room, where she placed it on top of her bureau, so that it seemed to stare across the room at her bed. As she turned to step away, however, she paused, an idea suddenly taking hold of her. Lana’s feet turned to guide her to her own closet, where she dug through it for several moments until she found the familiar blue, fabric eye she had been searching for.

Pulling the Watcher toy from its hiding place, she smiled softly and carried it over to the bureau. Carefully, she laid it beside the Stormbird, making sure that the Watcher’s head was leaning against the flying machine’s. Taking a step back, she stared at the stuffed toys for a few moments, her smile remaining.

“This Watcher’s still looking out for you, Stormbird,” she said softly. “Just like she has since we were kids.”

The first several days without Kal in the house had been the strangest, and hardest, with Lana catching herself waiting for him to come back so she could tell him something several times, but ultimately deciding against sending a message, as well. She had caught Ikrie in his room on the very first day, tidying it up, and she had almost offered to help, but something held her back at the last moment, telling her that this was something her mother intended to do alone, as not even Anukai was with her.

Several times, Lana had entered the living space or the kitchen to find her dark-haired mother quickly wiping at her eyes, attempting to plaster a smile on her lips before turning to the redheaded teenager.

When it had been almost a week, Lana found Ikrie approaching her on the couch, and she closed her Focus interface, glancing over at her mother.

“Hey, Lana,” Ikrie sighed as she took a perched seat on the arm nearest the teenager’s head.

“Hey, Mom… how’s it going?”

The dark-haired woman let out a short, soft laugh, before drawing a slow, deep breath.

“Have you heard from Kal this week?” she finally asked. “Messaged him first or… him to you first?”

Lana paused for a moment before slowly shaking her head.

“You?”

Ikrie also shook her head, hanging it for a moment.

“Heard from Ash, but not him.”

“He okay, though?” Lana asked, concern furrowing her brow.

“She said he’s alive, for one,” Ikrie said, clearly attempting to make light of it, but neither of them laughed, ultimately leaving the dark-haired woman to sigh and reach over to begin running her fingers over the top of Lana’s auburn hair. “She said he’s been quiet with them, too.”

The teenager’s lips twisted in a slight frown as she began to pull herself into a seated position.

“He’ll come around,” she said softly, moving aside and gesturing for Ikrie to sit beside her.

The dark-haired woman hesitated for a moment before ultimately obliging, sinking into the actual seat on the couch as Lana leaned in toward her, wrapping her arms around her mother’s middle and laying her head on her shoulder.

“I was… worried it might be… just me,” Ikrie said softly.

“Hmm?”

“That hadn’t heard.”

“Oh…” Lana muttered. “No, I… you’re not the only one.”

Ikrie sighed heavily, reaching one arm behind her daughter to card her fingers through her hair, once again.

“You still okay, otherwise?” she asked.

“About… that stuff?” Lana replied slowly.

Ikrie hummed an affirmative and the teenager drew a slow breath.

“There’s… a lot of things I… I keep thinking about that… that maybe I’m afraid to let myself think about, but—”

“I understand the feeling,” Ikrie interrupted gently, leaning her head to rest against her daughter’s as Lana sighed heavily.

Several long moments passed before the teenager’s face suddenly lit up with an idea and she cleared her throat.

“Hey, Mom,” she said tentatively, “what would you say… if you and I went on a trip out into the mountains again… this weekend?”

Ikrie paused her motions for a moment before lifting her head off Lana’s to glance over at her.

“Camping and hunting trip?” she replied. “Just you and me?”

“Yeah, just you and me, like before,” Lana said, nodding. “I… it really helped me before and… maybe it could help…  _ both _ of us, now…”

Ikrie appeared to think for a moment before nodding slowly.

“I… think I’d like that, but I don’t want to leave your mother alone, either…”

“Mama’ll have time to spend with Grandma or Aunt Ara, or both,” Lana said. “She… I know she feels comforted by that.”

Ikrie still seemed somewhat conflicted, prompting Lana to sigh, sitting up straight and turning in her seat to face her mother more fully.

“We’ve all been here all week, staring at each other in silence or… forcing ourselves to make conversation… this could be just… a little reset… for all of us.”

The dark-haired woman seemed to think it over for a few moments longer before nodding slowly.

“I… I get what you’re saying,” she said. “We can… let’s talk to Mama about it and see what she says.”

Within an hour, Lana and Ikrie had packed their bags for a two night, two day trip, while Anukai had made plans to see Ara and Vansa for dinner that night, and to spend the day with Aloy and Talanah the next day. The three women stood in the bedroom hallway, Ikrie and Anukai wrapped in a tight embrace as Lana fidgeted with one strap to her bag. Finally, her mothers pulled apart, exchanging a brief kiss before turning to their daughter.

“Ready, Lana?” Ikrie asked.

She straightened up as their attention fell on her and nodded. They each offered small smiles, before Anukai stepped forward, pulling her into a tight embrace, as well. Lana buried her face in her mother’s shoulder as she returned it, breathing deeply of the scent of her tunic.

“We’ll be okay, kiddo,” Anukai whispered softly. “All of us.”

“I know,” Lana replied, squeezing her mother a little tighter for a moment before the two of them pulled apart.

With that, they all left the apartment, Anukai walking with them to the elevators off the mesa, here she bade her final goodbyes for the weekend, watching them until they began to descend out of sight. Once the car had sunk below the lip of the platform, the redhead sighed and turned to make her way through the city streets to the pub Ara had suggested earlier.

When she arrived, she found it was not one of her sister’s old haunts, with patrons who appeared to be closer to her own age, and while lively, were less truly rambunctious. She did a short patrol of the space to find that Ara and Vansa hadn’t arrived yet, and opted to take a table on an outdoor section of the pub, overlooking the edge of the mesa and the expanse of the Jewel below.

Anukai ordered herself a drink while she waited, idly sipping at it every once in a while and swirling its contents in between. Finally, the sound of a familiar voice nearby drew her attention, prompting her to lift her head, glancing to her right. Almost immediately, Ara appeared at the end of the table, smirking.

“This is a first,” she teased.

Anukai rolled her eyes but rose from her seat, giving her sister and sister-in-law tight embraces before all of them took seats, once again, Ara and Vansa across from her. The three of them began with their typical banter and light conversation, including much eyerolling from the healer at Ara’s stories. Finally, however, after their food arrived, they had run out of the lighter topics and fallen somewhat quiet as they ate. This continued for several minutes until they all began to slow down, and Ara finally exchanged a glance with Vansa.

“How’re you doing, Anukai?” she finally asked, turning across the table to her sister.

“We’ve been talking this whole time…”

“I know, but not about… about why you wanted to meet up, I feel.”

Anukai sighed, pushing around the last of some spiced summer squash on her plate with her fork.

“I… I did want to spend time for a reason, but… m-maybe I wanted to… to not talk about it?” she said slowly.

Ara offered an apologetic smile, playing with some of her own food on her plate.

“Sorry, sis, I… we don’t have to, I—”

“It’s okay,” Anukai interrupted. “I… I’ve been having a good time so far and… I think I needed that the most.”

Ara’s smile turned more genuine as she reached across the table, taking Anukai’s right hand in her own and squeezing it gently. Suddenly, Vansa reached for her left, doing the same, prompting Anukai to glance over at her. The healer didn’t say anything, but offered a reassuring smile and nod. The redhead returned it, squeezing Vansa’s hand gently, still careful with such motions even after living with her arm for nearly two decades.

“So I’m just realizing,” Ara suddenly cut in, drawing the other two’s attentions, “you don’t have any tattoos, right?”

Anukai rolled her eyes as Vansa laughed softly.

“Ara, you know I do.”

“Okay… but you could always have  _ more _ ,” she teased, “and in more visible places than your shoulder or back or whatever.”

“You know,” Vansa suddenly chimed in, drawing Anukai’s attention to find the healer eying her metal arm, “I could maybe figure out a way to give your arm, there, something like tattoos, without damaging it.”

Both of the redheads’ eyebrows raised as Vansa smirked.

“It’d be like engraving, basically,” she offered. “Could look really good.”

“It most definitely could,” Ara added. “Vansa’s the metal-machine genius, so…”

Anukai sighed, hanging her head for a moment before lifting her gaze to look up at Vansa.

“What were you thinking?”

The healer went on to explain some ideas, tracing out vague lines on the metal appendage, while Anukai fought the shivers that came from the muted sensations of someone else touching it so much. Years of Ikrie’s hands running over it had evidently not translated to anyone else’s touch, but she didn’t shy away.

When she was done, Vansa let out a heavy sigh, glancing up at Anukai’s eyes.

“So… what do you think?”

The redhead blinked, eyes widening for a moment.

“You’re… you’re implying…  _ tonight _ ?”

“Well, maybe not tonight,” Vansa laughed, gesturing to her third empty drink glass, “but… soon?”

Anukai sighed, drumming the fingers of her right hand on the table for a moment before nodding slowly.

“How long would it take?”

“Couple of hours… maybe… four or five at the most?”

“Would the day after tomorrow work?”

Vansa seemed surprised at her answer, but grinned, nodding.

“I can make it work.”

“Ikrie and Lana are getting back that afternoon, so… I can come by in the morning?”

“Going to surprise the wife, huh?” Ara teased, smirking.

“If it’s as good as Vansa described… I think it’ll be a happy surprise.”

“If it isn’t, I will personally make you a new arm to replace the one I’ve ruined,” Vansa said, raising her right hand slightly above her head.

The three of them laughed as Anukai nodded.

“Deal.”

The splash of cold water from a mountain stream was enough to immediately shock Lana out of any remaining stupor from awaking at the crack of dawn, a shiver running through her as she let out a shaky sigh and shook her hands for a moment or two, rising to her feet. When she glanced back, she found Ikrie smirking at her from their nearby camp, a copper mug with steam rising from it in her hands.

“Usually just coffee is enough for me,” the dark-haired woman teased as Lana returned to the small campfire, falling onto the ground near it and pulling her knees in toward her.

“Still hate the taste,” the teenager shrugged.

Ikrie smirked, swirling her mug slightly.

“So does your mother.”

They both laughed softly before falling into silence, once again. The sounds of the crackling wood, the birdsong overhead, and the gentle breeze through the branches of the nearby copse of trees prompted Lana to close her eyes, letting all of it sink over her.

Despite all of the noises she could pick out, it always made her think of silence.

At least in her head.

After arriving at their landing point late yesterday afternoon, the duo had made their way north along the mountain range between the Sundom and Nora lands, eventually setting up camp as the sun finally sank below the distant horizon. They had only been out of the city and awake for a grand total of four hours or so, but the location and the activity had already begun to work its magic on the teenager. She found herself smiling easier, the weight in her chest no longer tugging the corners of her lips down, and the whirlwind of thoughts in her head had settled to merely a few whispers that only took form when she focused on them, directly.

Lana had noticed how Ikrie also seemed to be similarly affected, with her eyes more frequently reflecting the same brightness she had known for so long, with less of the redness and wateriness she had known recently.

“So, I did ask about hunting, but we’re far from any of the zones,” Lana began, opening her eyes to focus on her mother, once again. “We not going to, then?”

“We are,” Ikrie nodded, “just not machines this time.”

The redhead raised one eyebrow slightly as her mother grinned.

“Machines have their own challenges: they’re big, heavy, take coordination to take down, can waste lots of ammunition doing so… but ultimately, if you’re lost in the woods, you can’t eat anything from a machine, right?”

Lana’s face began to light up with realization as Ikrie took another sip of her coffee.

“What would your first pick to be, if you had to hunt for your food out here?” the dark-haired woman asked.

The teenager’s lips scrunched to one side in thought for several moments before she nodded.

“If it were just me, maybe a fox,” she said slowly.

“Oh?”

“Not too much meat, wouldn’t have to worry about it spoiling because I could make most of it at once.”

“True,” Ikrie nodded. “Sound reasoning. What else might fit that idea?”

Lana considered it for several long moments before Ikrie grinned, nodding to something over her shoulder. The redhead glanced back to see a small, brown rabbit at the edge of some bushes, its ears pricked while it quickly ate at the grass and leaves of the nearest bush.

“Aww…” Lana pouted. “They’re cute, though.”

“They are, but if you’re starving…”

“I know, I know,” she sighed.

“They also provide a good challenge,” Ikrie continued. “They’re fast, small, and sense you very well. If they hear you within a few yards, they’re gone, and good luck finding them again.”

“So… you shoot from afar.”

Ikrie hummed an affirmative as Lana nodded slowly.

“You said sound would scare them so… not a rifle or pistol,” she continued.

“Most likely not.”

Lana glanced to her mother’s side, noting the bow that lay on the ground.

“So that’s why you insisted we bring the bows.”

“That and I’m old-fashioned,” Ikrie smirked. “I… have an interesting history with guns.”

Lana raised one eyebrow at her again, but the dark-haired woman quickly hid her expression behind a sip of her mug.

“Anyway, shall we get started?” she sighed a moment later, setting aside her empty mug.

Lana nodded, scooping some dirt from nearby and dumping it on the fire to extinguish the flames. Within a minute or two, each of them had packed their bedrolls and slung their bows over their shoulders, Ikrie also checking her sling in its holster at her side while Lana pat the side of her short, modified spear in its holster across her back.

The duo made their way farther into the wooded area of the mountainside, slipping between the trees and dense undergrowth for just under a half an hour before Ikrie brought them to a stop. Lana glanced around, but didn’t see anything of particular note, so she turned back to her mother.

“Why here?” she asked softly.

“Because it’s as good as any place,” Ikrie said, turning to her. “Let’s say your hunt starts now.”

Lana glanced around again, before turning back to her.

“Now?”

Ikrie nodded, folding her arms over her chest.

“Let’s see what you can find, daughter of mine.”

Lana rolled her eyes but turned to scan the nearby forest more closely, searching for signs of some kind of game. She began to reach for her Focus when Ikrie clucked her tongue.

“Only as a last resort,” she chided.

The teenager sighed, but dropped her hand, instead focusing on the world around her. After several minutes of careful studying and stalking slowly through the trees, Lana let out a sigh in frustration.

“There’s nothing here,” she grumbled. “Nothing I can find, anyway.”

“And that might be the case,” Ikrie shot back.

Lana glanced back at her with a slight scowl.

“So this was a trick?”

“No, it’s a reality,” Ikrie continued, approaching her and placing one hand on Lana’s back as she rose to her feet. “Sometimes you aren’t going to find what you’re looking for right where you start looking, so you keep searching.”

Lana nodded, but her eyes clouded as her mother’s words seemed to unleash thoughts that she had allowed to remain buried since arriving in the mountains. She almost found one at the tip of her tongue, but ultimately held it back, instead taking a deep breath and glancing around the trees, again.

“So… do I pick which way we go?”

“You lead this hunt,” Ikrie nodded.

Several hours later, under the bright, early summer sun, Lana had finally brought them to a halt in the middle of a section of the forest where the wild grass had grown more rampantly than the more pine-needle covered ground earlier. In the distance, against a hulking shape overgrown with moss, grass, and a tree with exposed roots that wound about the unnatural mound toward the soft, forest flow below, she had caught her first true signs of movement that drew her attention.

As she watched in silence for several long moments, her mind attempted to drift toward thoughts of what the hulking shape was, how it had gotten there, and similar ideas, but Lana quickly forced her attention back to her target at the base of it. A moment later, a flash of orange appeared amongst the deep greens and browns and she smirked.

Slowly, Lana drew her bow, nocking an arrow to it but waiting to draw it back. When the fox appeared more fully from its hiding place, sniffing about the open ground, she began to steadily draw her weapon back. Just before she could fire her arrow, however, the sound of a loud, screeching call from overhead split the air and she jumped. Almost immediately, the fox darted for the cover of its hiding spot, seemingly beneath the strange shape behind it.

Sighing, Lana lowered her bow, frowning as she jammed the arrow back in her quiver. With that, however, she glanced around for what had scared her prey. After several long moments of searching, she caught a shape amidst the branches overhead, seemingly staring down at her with its head turned to one side quizzically. The teenager paused as she and the hawk seemed to meet each other’s gazes before it let out another screeching call and hopped from its branch, quickly flapping away into the canopy overhead.

“Bad luck,” Ikrie sighed.

Lana nodded, chewing at the inside of her cheek slowly.

“Yeah… something…”

After another few hours of hunting, she was able to finally catch two rabbits, after missing the first shot and extending the hunt by another thirty minutes or so when it fled in terror of her projectile. The teenager grinned as she held up her final kills, turning to her mother, who gave her an approving nod.

“You won’t starve tonight.”

Lana rolled her eyes as Ikrie laughed.

The hunt had taken a good portion of the day, but it was not so late that the sun was near setting, so the duo set out to leave the trees once Ikrie had checked a map from her Focus. The dark-haired woman promised that something interesting was nearby that she wanted to show Lana, so the redhead followed along eagerly. As they walked, the teenager noted how Ikrie’s motions contained an energy and speed that almost matched her own, and she found a grin tugging at her lips as she followed behind her mother.

When they finally cleared the trees, Lana found that they were on a much higher part of the mountain slope than she expected, with a large expanse of green falling away from her toward the valley far below. Directly ahead of them, however, was what appeared to be a small pond atop a rocky outcropping that jutted from the side of the mountain. The sound of running water gave Lana an idea what they were approaching, and her grin broadened.

When they reached the edge of the water, Ikrie signaled for them to drop their equipment on its shore, before waving excitedly for Lana to follow her toward the far edge, where she saw some of the water pouring away from the rest, running toward the edge of the rocky outcropping. When they approached, Ikrie stepped right to the edge, seemingly without any fear, and crouched down.

Lana approached more hesitantly, a light feeling rising in her stomach as she noted how the ground seemed to simply fall away, leading to a drop of at least twenty yards or so. She exhaled shakily, taking a small step back from the ledge and glancing toward her mother, who still remained crouched at the very edge of the rock, staring over it. A moment later, she glanced back at Lana and rose to her feet, once again.

“Good find?” she asked, grinning broadly.

“It’s… amazing,” Lana replied, laughing nervously.

“You’re okay, come here,” Ikrie urged, waving her daughter closer.

Lana swallowed heavily but approached her mother, once again, Ikrie placing her hand on her shoulder protectively. The redhead came to a stop, the light feeling in her stomach prompting her heart rate to accelerate, but she didn’t step away, not wanting to break away from her mother’s touch, as well.

After several long moments, Ikrie breathed in slowly through her nose, exhaling heavily.

“There were views like this, or even more impressive in the Cut, and especially in the Sheers,” she said.

“Like… like the one you showed us?” Lana asked.

“Even more so than that,” she nodded. “They didn’t call it The Sheers for nothing. Your mother and I practically grew up on the side of a mountain. You learned your footing young, there.”

Lana nodded, but her gaze had turned from the scenery to her mother, a grin tugging at her lips as she noted how Ikrie’s seemed to be set in a small smile, her eyes bright as she stared out at the world before them.

“I used to feel like… like I was on the very edge of the world, in some of those places,” she continued softly. “Like… like I was staring out into just the untamed… essence of the world.”

A few moments of silence passed between them before Lana spoke, again.

“And here?”

“Maybe not so untamed,” Ikrie replied, “since I’ve seen so much of the land below, but… but I can still feel it, part of it, deep down.”

Several long moments passed, again, before Ikrie gently urged Lana to take a seat beside her, perching at the edge of the rocky dropoff beside the small waterfall, their feet dangling against the cliff face. Once Lana had calmed herself enough to not speak with a tremulous voice, she cleared her throat.

“Do you miss it?”

Ikrie remained silent for several long moments before inhaling deeply.

“Not always,” she said. “There’s… there’s so much now that I would never have if I’d stayed… and I wouldn’t give that up.”

The dark-haired woman glanced over at Lana with a grin, wrapping an arm behind her back and squeezing the teenager to her side.

“And now I can share it with you, which is all the better.”

Lana grinned, as well, allowing herself to be pulled into the warmth of her mother’s side, leaning her head onto her shoulder. Silence fell over them, yet again, for several long minutes, each of them staring out at the scenery below, neither making a motion to break the moment. As Lana began to note the sun truly beginning to sink toward the horizon, its color taking on a darker orange, rather than the bright white and yellow of midday, she felt Ikrie sigh heavily beside her.

“I really like these trips,” the dark-haired woman said softly.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” she hummed. “Do you?”

Lana grinned and nodded.

“It was my idea, remember?”

Ikrie laughed, nodding as she rubbed her hand up and down her daughter’s arm for a moment.

“That’s true,” she said. “Just… just checking.”

Lana sensed the change in tone that had come at the end of her last sentence, and she shifted her position, wrapping her arm behind Ikrie’s back, as well.

“I really do, Mom,” she said.

The dark-haired woman squeezed her tightly for a moment, once again, as Lana inhaled deeply through her nose.

“Maybe at the end of summer, we can all go.”

Ikrie seemed to pause for a moment before nodding slowly, although her motion seemed less sure.

“We can see…”

“We will. In fact,” Lana continued, squeezing her mother in turn, as she had her a moment ago, “let’s plan it. This spot, we’ll show Kal and Mama.”

Ikrie nodded, turning to wrap her other arm around the front of Lana, leaning her head atop her daughter’s for a moment.

“It’s a plan.”

That night, at the edge of the small, mountain pond, Ikrie showed Lana how to skin the rabbits and prepare them to cook over their small campfire. The smell was immediately intoxicating and Lana found her mouth watering long before the food was ready. As soon as it was, she tore into her portion, finishing it long before her mother, who simply stared at her in seeming shock for a moment only to begin laughing.

“You’d think we’d been lost out here for a week,” she teased.

“Shut up…” Lana grumbled, hunching her shoulders as she wrapped her arms around her knees, drawing them in close to her.

“You’re okay, Lana,” Ikrie said, finishing off the last of her own food before using the stick she had used to spear and roast it to poke at the flaming logs before them a bit. “Sometimes I wonder who’s the one to eat our pantry clean first: you or your brother?”

“That’s not fair,” Lana pouted.

“Everyone tells me it’s the teenage boy, but I have my doubts.”

Lana’s pout exaggerated further as Ikrie laughed, reaching around the fire to pat her daughter’s knee reassuringly.

“I’m only teasing you, Lana.”

The redhead’s lips cracked into a smirk as she nodded.

“I know, Mom…”

A long silence fell over them, once again, as they each let their dinner settle, alternating between staring into the fire and at the stars overhead. As they did, however, the thoughts that had been held at bay for so long over the past day began to grow louder, despite Lana’s best efforts to push them back down. Finally, when it felt like several of them were screaming in her ears, Ikrie cleared her throat.

“You okay, Lana?”

The teenager jumped slightly, her gaze lifting to meet her mother’s.

“What?”

“You okay?” she repeated. “You… look uncomfortable.”

“I-I…”

Lana trailed off, staring down at her knees for a moment before drawing a deep breath.

“Mom, can I… ask you something?”

Ikrie’s brow furrowed in concern as she nodded.

“Of course, Lana.”

“Something I… I’m afraid… that Mama and… and the others… that they’d…  _ hear _ … without me saying and… and it feels crazy and I don’t want  _ them _ to freak out, too, and—”

“Lana, breathe,” Ikrie said, sliding next to her and wrapping her arm behind her shoulders, rocking the teenager gently. “Slow down, and breathe.”

Lana did as she said, taking slow, deep breaths, until her heart rate had settled, and the thoughts, while still loud and demanding attention, were no longer quite so frenzied and chaotic.

“What’s wrong?” Ikrie asked softly.

“If… i-if… Mama and… and Aunt Ara and Ash and… and Grandma…” she began before ultimately trailing off, her face contorting in thought. “They’re all basically… the same… as… as you both told us… I-I can see they… they’re very different, between them, but…”

She could feel Ikrie tensing slightly beside her as Lana drew a deep breath.

“What does that mean for me, in relation to them?” she finally said, expelling the words like finally releasing the arrow from a bowstring drawn taut hours ago. “Is that why I… I have this… these feelings toward Aunt Ara and Grandma so strongly… like Mama?”

Lana finally buried her face against her knees as Ikrie paused for a moment, only to quickly begin rubbing at her back.

“Those are all completely fair questions to ask,” she began softly. “First and foremost: loving family members is entirely something you choose how to do. It’s a personal connection, and there's nothing wrong about feeling it strongly about someone like your aunt or your grandmother.”

“But… is it… is it the same… as Mama?”

Ikrie drew a slow, deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment before speaking once again.

“Do you feel it is?”

Lana’s lips remained parted, as if she were about to speak, for several long moments, before she closed them, swallowing heavily.

“I-I… not exactly…”

“Is it the same for each of them, individually? Is how you feel about Aunt Ara the same as how you feel about Grandma?”

“No…”

“Do you think it’s the same for them?”

“I don’t know…”

“Lana,” Ikrie said softly, but firmly, “you do. I don’t need to have the same connection you do with them to know this. All of them love you, that is true, but in their own ways, and I see that in return from you to them.”

Lana nodded, but still seemed unconvinced, prompting Ikrie to sigh.

“I… I know deep down the exact reality of all of them—have this whole time—but I found very early on that I could distinguish each of them very clearly as their own person. Their appearances don’t exactly equate to their thoughts, their feelings, their personalities… and despite how… how our family is a little more… complicated than others… I don’t see any reason for you to think of it as inherently  _ different _ .”

Lana nodded for a moment or two before a sound like a sob tore from her throat. Almost immediately, she turned toward Ikrie, who pulled her in with both arms, tucking her daughter against her chest and rocking her gently. The teenager wrapped her arms behind Ikrie’s back, holding her in a tight, desperate grip as her shoulders shook with silent sobs. The dark-haired woman gently rubbed one hand across the back of her shoulders, turning her head to lay her cheek against the crown of her daughter’s head.

“You’re… you and Kal aren’t… different, too, Mom…”

Ikrie swallowed heavily as Lana squeezed her mother even tighter.

“I love you both.”

“I know, Lana…”

“No, I just… I want you to know it,” she continued. “Kal knows it, too, even if he’s upset.”

“Lana—”

“He’ll come back, Mom, I know he will.”

A moment later, Lana felt the first hints of wetness against her hair as she detected the hints of tremors in Ikrie as her mother attempted to hide her own sobs.

“When we’re… when we’re back here at the end of the summer… you’ll see,” Lana said softly. “For now… you’ve got me.”

Ikrie squeezed her a little tighter for a moment as she inhaled deeply, her head seeming to lift for a moment before she pressed a soft kiss against the crown of Lana’s head. As she pulled away a moment later, burying her face in her daughter’s auburn hair, Lana heard her breathe deeply before her voice followed, low and somewhat raspy.

“And I’m so grateful I do.”

“ _ I’m so glad to hear it. We’re all looking forward to the end of this week. _ ”

Anukai sighed as she closed her Focus interface, the confirmation that her message to Ashana had been sent flashing for a moment just before the web of lights disappeared around her. Rising from her seat on the edge of her bed, she groaned softly, twisting her back for a moment or two until the worst of the stiffness had faded. Sighing, she began to pad toward the door to the hallway.

As she opened it, she could hear the sound of voices echoing from the living space ahead, and she paused. Despite the options being limited, she still listened closely as she slid silently along the wood floor toward the far end ahead of her. The voices were light, frequently breaking into laughter and higher pitches that brought a warm feeling to her chest. As Anukai reached the end of the hallway, she came to a stop with her back against the wall, remaining out of sight but listening.

“You told me to put it in the pan!”

“Not yet!” Ikrie laughed. “It’s not hot enough!”

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“Hold your hand over it!”

Anukai’s smile grew broader as she listened, closing her eyes and leaning her head back for a moment. Despite the warmth in her chest brought on by the sounds echoing from ahead of her, she found that a small pang tugged at her heart that one tone was missing. A lower, deeper one that sometimes still occasionally cracked.

Opening her eyes, she glanced down at her left arm, holding it before her as she ran her fingers along the etched lines in its surface, tracing the intricate glyphs that formed two particular words. Her fingers hovered over the one for Kallik, her smile refusing to fade even if a small hint of sadness tugged at her chest.

“Soon…” she breathed. “Soon.”

With that, she made her presence known, slipping into the living space and approaching the kitchen just as Ikrie appeared to be playing at shoving Lana out of the way before the stove.

“Good morning,” the older redhead called as she approached. “How are my girls doing?”

“Morning, Mama!” Lana said quickly, glancing back at her and shaking some of the loose strands of hair that had fallen free from her ponytail out of her face. “Breakfast’s almost ready!”

“Is it?” Anukai asked, folding her arms over her chest and leaning against the counter behind them. “From all of the shouting, I was getting worried.”

“I’m  _ trying _ to help Mom, but she won’t let me do more than mix things together.”

“You’ve come a long way,” Ikrie retorted, jabbing a wooden spoon at her, “but there’s still much to learn.”

“Well, I’ve got a week,” Lana sighed. “Kal isn’t going to be able to give me shit about my cooking anymore, and I’m gonna show him.”

“Oh, speaking of which,” Anukai said, clearing her throat, “I heard from Ash this morning.”

“Oh?” the other two said at once, glancing back at her.

“She’s a little sad that he’s leaving, because she’s said it’s been so fun having him,” Anukai smirked.

“Kal? Fun?” Lana teased.

“Shocking,” Anukai replied, laughing.

“He’s… good though?” Ikrie asked tentatively.

“Mhm,” the redhead hummed. “Said he’s been making the most of out the last days with Elias and Sorin, and that he may have learned some new skills, even.”

“What? No fair,” Lana pouted. “He’s not allowed to learn new things. I’m just catching up with cooking.”

The mothers both laughed as Anukai pushed away from the counter, placing one hand on her daughter’s back.

“Why don’t you set the table for us, okay?”

“But—”

“Mom’s particular about this recipe, so why don’t you let her finish and I’m sure she’ll show you next time.”

Lana sighed, but nodded, turning to slip past them and grab the plates and silverware. As she made her way out of the kitchen, Anukai slid behind Ikrie, wrapping her arms about her wife’s middle and pressing a kiss against the side of her head.

“You okay?” she whispered.

“Just… looking forward to Kal being home,” Ikrie shrugged.

“I know… me, too,” Anukai nodded. “I don’t want to embarrass him by crying when I see him.”

“Oh, I think I’m going to, anyway,” she said, laughing.

The redhead laughed, as well, swaying Ikrie slightly with her hips as Anukai buried her face in the side of her mate’s neck.

“I just want to see him smile again,” the redhead sighed.

“Me, too,” Ikrie nodded. “Maybe I’ll have two helpers in the kitchen, now.”

Anukai laughed softly, pressing a kiss against her neck before nuzzling her cheek against the side of Ikrie’s head.

“I’m so glad that you’ve had one, now.”

The dark-haired woman sighed, leaning her head back slightly and resting it against the side of Anukai’s.

“Me, too… and I’m sorry if we’ve… if we’ve been away too often…”

“Not at all,” Anukai said, pressing another kiss against the side of Ikrie’s neck, just below her ear. “I love seeing the two of you together… my girls…”

Ikrie grinned as she turned her head toward her mate, pressing a gentle kiss against her lips.

“You know, I think I like that…”

Lana sat on the edge of her bed, tapping her fingers nervously on her knees as one bounced uncontrollably with the nervous tension that coursed through her body. She hadn’t gone to meet Kal and Ash at the VTOL landing site as part of her had felt wrong for intruding on such a moment between them. Besides, she knew her brother, he wouldn’t want to necessarily show an emotional display in front of her.

It would be too much ammunition for her to use later.

If he did show it.

Just then, Lana was snapped out of her reverie by the sound of the front door opening, and her head whirled toward her door. Drawing a deep breath, she hopped off her bed, hurrying toward her door and yanking it open. Her feet seemed to fly above the wood floor as she raced toward the living space, skidding to a stop at the end of the hallway.

Kal glanced over at her, seemingly in surprise, and Lana’s eyes widened. The boy standing beside their mothers was not quite the one she remembered from three months ago, and she continued to blink several times to ensure that her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her.

“Hi, Lana…”

A moment later, she rushed forward, all thoughts of avoiding embarrassing moments lost as she almost tackled him in a tight embrace. Kal made a sound in playful protest before returning the gesture, Lana noting the strength in his grip that hadn’t been there before. After a few moments, she pulled back, taking a step or two away and glancing him up and down, once again.

“We sure this is Kal?” she teased, smirking. “I thought he was this scrawny boy who liked reading.”

Kal rolled his eyes, but the grin tugging at his lips was unmistakable.

“It’s good to see you, too,” he shot back.

“Of course it’s good to see you,” she said. “Welcome home.”

She offered him one more, quick hug, before gesturing for him to follow her toward their rooms. He seemed confused, but did as she indicated, bringing his bag with him. As he reached his door, Lana gestured for him to go inside, and he gave her a look, but she only pointed more insistently. When he opened the door and stepped inside, he came to a stop, staring at something across the room.

Lana grinned excitedly as she waited for him to say or do anything else. Finally, he began to walk slowly toward his bed, the redhead moving to stand in the doorway. As he came to a stop beside the bed, he moved to one side just enough that the stuffed Stormbird and Watcher toys were visible from the doorway.

“She kept watch over him,” Lana said, prompting Kal to glance back at her, “while you were away.”

The dark-haired boy grinned, glancing down at the toys, once again, before dropping his bag to the floor and reaching to run his hand over the backs of the toys.

“I forgot I still had him…” Kal said softly.

“I… found him in your closet,” Lana said tentatively. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to go through your things, I just…”

“It’s okay,” Kal said, turning back to her. “I’m glad you did find him… and, uh… I’m glad your Watcher kept good… watch.”

They both cracked into laughter as Lana shifted her position against the doorframe.

“It’s what siblings do, isn’t it?”

Kal laughed, nodding as he rubbed at the back of his neck, glancing down at the toys, once again.

“Didn’t realize they were siblings.”

“Well, of course,” Lana replied. “Just because the Watcher can’t fly, and the Stormbird doesn’t like to walk around on the ground, doesn’t mean they aren’t.”

Kal grinned as he turned back to Lana.

“Okay, okay…”

Lana grinned broadly before clearing her throat.

“I’m glad you’re back, Kal.”

He visibly drew a deep breath as he nodded slowly, meeting her eyes without flinching or looking away after a second or two.

“Came back in one piece, like you asked.”


End file.
